Blackout Days: Retold
by rissawolf95
Summary: As the Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations, the welfare of the planet hinged upon Seraphina. Handsome Jack takes personal interest in her. His methods are bloody and violent; the opposite of Sera's diplomatic approach. For the sake of Pandora, their cooperation is crucial. Can Jack unclench his iron fist, or will he destroy everything-including Pandora? Handsome Jack/OC
1. Blackout Days

Hide the sun;

I will leave your face out of my mind.

You should save your eyes.

A thousand voices howling in my head;

Speak in tongues.

I don't even recognize your face,

Mirror on the wall.

Tell me all the ways to stay away...


	2. Chapter One:

***Disclaimer: I don't own Borderlands. This is purely fanfiction.**

**General c****ontent Warning: Adult language, sexual situations, sexual harassment/assault, and violence.**

**Welcome back! ****Borderlands 3 reignited the undying flame of my love/hate for Handsome Jack. I miss him, so! And that's why I'm reviving Black Out Days--except now, my OC is truly her own entity. Fans of my Handsome Jack/femReader story: thank you for your wonderful encouragement and suggestions. I have been inspired and am excited to revise and continue this fanfiction!**

**I will be reuploading and revising previous chapters. Some things will change; others will stay the same. For newcomers: Thank you for joining us!***

Dust stirred lightly around her durable rakk-hide boots as Seraphina materialized in the outlying town of Overlook. A simple name for a place stationed atop a perilous cliffside, where the craggy Highlands could be seen in all their stalker-and-thresher-infested glory.

Squinting in the midday sun, the young twenty-year-old girl eyed the deserted town square. Not a soul emerged from their dwellings to greet her. Nobody pelted her with rocks or skag droppings, either; optimism.

Rumor had it most of the townsfolk were bedridden with some mysterious illness. Even worse; they were discouraged from leaving their homes, regardless of their health. Perhaps that was because of their ninety-nine percent chance of being viciously mauled by wildlife. Or because of their close proximity to an active Hyperion military outpost.

Loader Bots patrolled nearby, monitoring the activity of the townsfolk and armed to neutralize any bandit who dared to get close.

Sighing woefully, Sera pulled out her trusty notebook hardcover and favorite pen. Most people used ECHO logs to record audio notes. Old-fashioned, she preferred the feel of paper and ink; it was therapeutic and kept her grounded.

Displeased, she pouted and flipped through its carefully labeled pages; all the information was organized and tabbed according to Hyperion territories on Pandora. Stopping on the page labeled _Overlook_, she wrote down the first few things that caught her attention, keeping it concise: _Unsafe; r__isk of maulings. Confined to homes. Prisoners? Strange illness. Fatal?_

"Happy birthday, Sera!" a familiar voice spoke through her ECHO communication device, startling her from perturbed thoughts. A smile crept up her face.

"It's not my birthday, Henry," she responded, rolling her eyes slightly at his silliness.

"Yeah well, what else should I say? It's the anniversary of _your_ great idea. Seriously, though, you should be up here celebrating with us. If anyone deserves a little R-and-R, it's you. The Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations should be leading the toast to our success! And man, was _that_ a mouthful."

Henry was her colleague, but first and foremost, her best friend. He was the Manager of Hyperion Intelligence and Resources; basically, the one who made all Sera's humanitarian efforts possible. Without his resourcefulness and reputable connections, her ambitious ideas would never have lifted off the ground.

"Please. Without you, I'd still be some asshole's personal coffee-maker," she countered, unable to take that much credit.

"You're right. I'm pretty awesome," Henry gloated, and she could just see him posing like some hot shot.

"Don't forget modest."

Henry laughed giddily; he was just a little tipsy. "Really, Sera, get your butt up here. It feels wrong hogging all the glory, drinking booze, while you're down there."

Regretful, Sera looked skyward. The watchful blue eye of the gleaming station, Helios, reminded her of the responsibility she had over the lives beneath its scrutiny. Nothing would please her more than enjoying a few drinks with Henry and her colleagues (whom she refused to think of as underlings, despite the fact she was their boss). But she swore an oath upon the DPR's official founding. Pandora's welfare hinged upon her tireless efforts at maintaining peace and contentment, between civilians and Hyperion forces.

Right then, Overlook required her undivided attention. The anniversary would be meaningless if she allowed one more person to die from a perfectly treatable illness.

"Enjoy the party, Henry. For the both of us," Sera said; a friendly way of letting him know she wasn't going to show. Doing so caused an empty rift to form in her chest; weeks passed since they had time to actually get together as friends. Things had been strictly business, since the Vault Hunters started causing trouble.

With an audible sigh, Henry was otherwise silent for a few seconds. Then he said, "Watch your back, 'for the both of us'."

The ECHO cut off.

Out of habit, the Hyperion emissary glanced over her shoulder, knowing it was unwise to go alone. Henry usually accompanied Sera during these harrowing trips to Pandora, but she snuck off on a solo mission. To be honest, she purposely avoided the anniversary celebration. Reason being, she felt uncomfortable in the spotlight. Having all that praise showered upon her just felt...weird.

Inhaling the humid desert air, she composed herself before setting her sights on the Holy Spirits Pub.

Opening the first door, she was assaulted by the stench of stale beer, body odor, and urine. Some guy was passed out in the cramped entryway room, possibly the source of said stench. Wrinkling her nose, she flipped open her weathered notebook to write: _Poor hygiene. Health code violation. Send more soap_.

Stepping over the drunk's limp arm, she tried not to disturb him. Without warning, his hand caught her ankle in a bruising grip, like she had activated a spring trap.

"What'r'you doin' 'ere, Hyperion skank?" the hostile man slurred, glaring hatefully.

These situations called for poise and composure, to avoid escalating things. Sera remained still, making confident eye contact as she said, "Please let go of me. I'm here to help."

"Help?" he repeated with a scornful snort. "Yeah, an' my name's Han'some Jack!"

She was one hundred percent sure he wasn't Handsome Jack.

"Sir, I would appreciate if you let go," she tried again, while on the inside she wanted to kick him. Being manhandled was something that really got on her nerves. The way he leered made her glad she opted for pants instead of a skirt.

"I'd 'preciate if you had less clothes on!" he sneered.

What a pig.

Repulsed, she attempted to kick him off but he held tight. Shaken off balance, his iron grip on her ankle caused her to fall right on top of him. Mortified, she immediately planted her hands on the floor and tried to push herseld up, but his arm secured around her lower back, holding her captive.

"Get your hands off me!" she hissed furiously, recoiling from his rancid breath.

"Why? You ain't 'ave nowhere important to be, you's a woman," he sniggered.

Everything about this man triggered her gag reflex. His grubby hand was clumsily searching for a way to remove her belt. Of all the things she anticipated happening, being groped by a disgusting drunk had not crossed her mind.

"I said let go!"

Glass smashed against the wall overhead, startling both Sera and the drunk. Released, she rolled away, retreating until she was pressed against the wall. During the "excitement", the door leading into the pub was flung open. A petite woman stood there, holding the end of a smashed bottle and a large revolver.

"Dave, get your ass outta here, 'fore I slice off your dangly bits!"

Bright orange goggles were secured to her face, contrasting with her vibrant green lipstick. Her rusty-brown hair was cropped short, with an odd pattern on the right side of her head. Not a pattern--an old scar. Part of her right ear was mutilated, and adorned in piercings.

Dave grumbled something misogynistic under his breath, drunkenly hauling himself up. Once he found his feet, the woman delivered a swift kick to his ass, sending him reeling out the door. There was angry, garbled language outside, but he valued his "dangly bits" enough not to come back.

Hands now free and rested on her pronounced hips, the fierce woman became fixated on Seraphina--or, on the incriminating logo sewn over her jacket sleeve.

"The hell is Hyperion doin' sendin' you here?"

"Oh, uhm, I..."

Realization dawned on Sera, who felt quite undignified on the unmopped entryway floor beside a suspiciously pungent puddle. Cheeks burning, she collected herself and retrieved her notebook, clutching it firm over her chest.

Dainty brows furrowed over her dusty goggles, the woman regarded her sympathetically. "Sorry 'bout Dave. He's the resident dickhead."

"It's fine," Sera assured her quickly, "Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

"Uh huh..." the Pandoran mused skeptically, arms crossed as she beheld Seraphina's ruffled state. Emotions hidden behind her goggles, she was impossible to read, though it was a safe bet she wasn't impressed.

"Tell me why you're here, Hyperion."

Well then, straight to business. Smoothing the wild hairs that escaped her ponytail, she answered, "Seraphina, Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations. I'm here to ask a few questions. I take all complaints and requests, to find out what you need to make living conditions more bearable."

"Oh, how sweet of ol' Jack to ask us how we feel 'bout gettin' pissed on!"

Her resentment was understandable. Most Pandorans despised Hyperion, but Sera knew how to smooth things over.

"Who said anything about Jack? He has no direct involvement in my department. I'm here because I want to help," she informed with a genuine smile, hoping none of that sounded rehearsed. It was difficult to convince Pandorans she could be trusted, while she bore the metaphorical--and literal clothing--brand of Hyperion.

The woman eyed Sera critically, surely giving her the once-over. "Hold on..."

She approached slowly, as if worried the Hyperion peacekeeper would cower like a cornered skag pup. Reaching out, she gently grasped Sera's arm with both gloved hands. Without a word, she deftly pushed up her jacket sleeve, exposing the discolored, raised scar underneath.

"Oh! You're that Hyperion who wandered up to the One Armed Bandits' camp--like some lost skag pup--and actually got 'em to like you!"

Tickled by the revelation, she released Sera's arm and gripped her shoulder instead; a gesture of companionship.

"C'mon in, Sera," she said, half-escorting, half-dragging the girl into the pub. "Someone get 'er a drink!" she shouted to the bartender, before tugging Sera toward an empty table. Urging her to sit, she slid into a chair across the table from Sera.

"Ol' Stumpy Joel tried to initiate you into his clan, huh? Bet that made you feel tingly inside," she joked.

"Yeah, that was me," she confirmed with a nervous laugh, tugging her sleeve back down over the telltale scar.

That particular incident was Seraphina's first--and most bizarre--success story. Last year, after getting the green light, she traveled to The Dust. Stumpy Joel--the leader and founder of the largest bandit gang on Pandora--actually listened to her speech. He agreed to stop pillaging and cannibalizing if Hyperion sent his clan supply drops of food, and meds. As a show of his loyalty, trust and respect, he tried to chop off Sera's left arm. Every last one of his clan members had been initiated that way. They weren't called the One Armed Bandits just because it sounded cool.

It would've been hilarious, if Sera wasn't literally scarred for life.

Luckily, Henry had been there to stop the initiation. Thanks to his quick thinking and silver tongue, Sera got to keep her arm, and Stumpy Joel wasn't offended. Everyone was happy...well, except for Joel's pet skag, Blue-Horn. It liked to eat the severed arms.

"Name's Frigg," the woman introduced herself officially, removing her goggles to reveal stunning grey eyes. Extending a gloved hand over the table, she officated their friendship with a strong handshake.

Other patrons were looking their way; a few scowled, but most regarded the misfit Hyperion curiously. Doing her best not to blush like an idiot, Sera smiped back at Frigg, "Nice to meet you. And, uhm, thanks for...back there."

"Don't mention it. I live to kick Dave in the ass!" Frigg said with a devious grin.

Clearing her throat softly, Sera was eager to talk about anything else other than that filth. Placing her notebook on the table, she dutifully positioned her pen. Frigg noticed her old fashioned methods and laughed a bit, but didn't comment.

"So, tell me how things are going in Overlook," Sera prompted, hoping the woman could explain better than Hyperion surveillance bots, "People are ill?"

"Some of us got the Skull Shivers, thanks to all Jack's drillin'," she said, the disdain clear in her mannerisms. "We need medicine. Jack damn well knows it! But have at it, Sera...maybe _you_ can convince him to give a shit 'bout us."

Frigg scoffed after she said that last. The deep gulp from her beer mug conveyed just how hopeful she was of that.

Skull Shivers...That was something new, unreported.

Very diligent in her note-taking, Sera became deeply troubled as Frigg explained the symptoms Overlook townfolk knew of. The extent of their understanding only consisted of visual signs and patient complaints. Evidently, it was a degenerative brain disease. The end result was always the same; death.

Those afflicted by the disease were strictly confined to their sub-standard living quarters, slowly wasting away; their homes were more like tombs. Unless Sera convinced the right people to send medicine, the citizens of Overlook would suffer until their brains rotted.

Somehow, the subject changed from Skull Shivers to Hyperion soldiers making asses of themselves around Overlook. Apparently, they rarely paid for their drinks and trashed the place. Although Seraphina loathed to hear it, she also felt a hopeful warmth in her chest. Frigg trusted her with the truth. Not many Pandorans would confide in a Hyperion employee--and certainly not about Jack.

After a rather passionate rant, Frigg had fallen silent, causing Sera to look up from her notes. The look in her cloudy grey eyes of the sky during a lightning storm; bleak yet electrified.

"Anything else I should know?" Sera ventured to ask, curious about what troubled her new friend.

"It's a lost cause, y'know," she said quietly, before taking a forlorn swig from her mug.

"Sorry?" the baffled girl questioned, confused as to what she meant.

Setting her mug down, she rolled her eyes and leveled them at Seraphina like she had to break sad news to a naive child. "Word gets 'round, y'know. Jack's gonna wipe us all out, if he gets his way. To him, we're all bandit scum."

Being an employee of Hyperion, and therefore, at the command and disposal of Handsome Jack, it wasn't her place to question him. That said, Seraphina had her..._opinions,_ about his ruthlessly cruel methods. In his own words, "the only good bandit is a dead one." That never sat right with her, knowing the history of Pandora. The _true_ history; not the egocentric propaganda conjured up and enforced by Jack himself.

Bandits had once been scientists, scholars, mechanics, technicians—people of value and influence across the Six Galaxies. Yes, some were prison laborers left behind by Dahl, but they weren't all lawless savages. Many were still worth keeping alive. They could see reason, if Hyperion spoke their language--and refraining from bombing their camps would help exponentially.

Sadly, her sentiments put Sera in the stark minority on Helios.

Then again, none of her activities would've been allowed without Handsome Jack. He must've read her proposal last year, when she formally requested permission to found the Department of Pandoran Relations. Nobody else but the CEO himself could sign the consent form. That simple fact lifted her spirits. Everyone was capable of change; perhaps even an iron-fisted dictator like Jack.

Leveling her reserved eyes with Frigg's, Sera offered a hopeful smile. "If it was a lost cause, I wouldn't have clearance to do any of this."

Frigg mulled that one over with a pensive guzzle of beer. Meanwhile, someone walked up beside Sera; the bartender, who wore a peculiar amount of green. He placed a mug down in front of her and winked slyly. Without uttering one syllable, he sauntered off back to the bar, whistling a cheerful tune. Frigg nearly choked on her beer as she laughed.

Sera missed the joke. "What?"

Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, Frigg waved her hand towards the fresh beverage.

"Hon', you best not drink that. He prolly spit in it," she warned, jerking her head toward the man. He was wiping down the bar with a rather conspicuous smirk on his face.

"Oh." Sera looked down at the frothy yellow drink, unable to tell if there was saliva floating in there. Lip curled in distaste, she remarked dryly, "Charming."

"Don't take it personal. His way of messin' with folks. Gets a kick out of it, and gets a kick in the nuts 'cause of it."

"I see," the girl mused, unsure if she ought to be offended or flattered. Idly, she toyed with the golden Hyperion-issued watch secured to her wrist. Then she nearly leapt out of her meat prison, realizing two hours had ticked by. Losing track of time had severe consequences. _Oh shit_.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," the words came out impulsively as Sera rose from her seat, panicked. When she reached to collect her notebook, a gloved hand snagged her wrist. It was a gentle but firm grasp.

Frigg eyed the younger girl nervously, alarmed by her sudden urgency to leave. "Somethin' wrong?"

"No, it's just..." Sera faltered, hesitant to divulge the true importance of a punctual departure. It definitely wouldn't lessen the hostility felt toward Hyperion rule, but Sera answered truthfully, "I have a time limit."

"Time limit?" Frigg parroted the words, deepening her frown. Pandorans couldn't afford secrets.

"If I don't check in every hour, Loader Bots will come looking for me and...well, property damage usually happens."

Frigg rolled her eyes and shook her head. Letting go, she snatched up her mug and took another big gulp of beer. "Figures," she snorted.

There was no point in Seraphina explaining it wasn't a time constraint she placed on herself. Freedom to roam Pandora came with restrictions; Hyperion couldn't risk her being captured by bandits or rebels. Primarily because she possessed quite extensive knowledge of the company and its assets. Being an ambassador of sorts, she was extremely valuable to Hyperion--lucky her.

It was rare for Seraphina to make friends so quickly on Pandora; for that, she was grateful. Smiling genuinely, she tucked her notebook into her light shoulder bag and said, "Take care of yourself, Frigg."

Glancing sideways at her, Frigg reached for the mug of possibly-contaminated beer she hadn't touched. Shrugging, she tossed her head back and gulped down its contents, unbothered about the probability of spit. When she finished, she belched and set the mug down. Her manners were exemplary; Sera bit back a giggle.

"Watch your back up there. Don't want a knife in it," Frigg warned solemnly. Both of them were highly aware of the metaphorical target on her back; vulnerable to knives.

"I'm not that easy to get rid of. Trust me."

Even as the words left her mouth, paranoia chewed at her resolve. It honestly wouldn't come as a shock if there was an ambush waiting upon her return to Helios. Those who profit off the deaths she actively prevented would surely conspire some bloody end...

Frigg smirked, appreciative of her defiant spirit, before fixing her goggles back over her eyes. Lifting her emptied mug in a good-natured gesture of farewell, she whistled sharply and waved the bartender over for a refill.

With nothing left to be said, the Hyperion diplomat promptly exited the Holy Spirits Pub.

Free of prying eyes, she momentarily slumped against the outside of the building. Crushing weight bored down on her shoulders, like she was piggy-backing a Loader Bot; dozens of lives were now fully dependent upon her efforts. Unless she convinced the right people to send medicine, the quaint little town would become a graveyard.

"Uh, Sera. You should come back. Now would be great--yeah, _right now._"

That was an ECHO-call from Henry. His otherwise calm voice held a nervous tremor.

"Henry? What's going on?" she asked with anxiety mounting to unbearable levels.

"Just come to your office. Now."

Technically, she was _his _boss, despite their unspoken agreement to behave as equals. Under normal circumstances she would be irritated Henry was giving her orders, but she knew him too well. He was rather intoxicated and very, very worried.

"Okay. On my way," she responded. The ECHO cut off then. A terrifying thought occurred as she practically sprinted for the nearest fast-travel station. What if they were cutting her department's funding?Those rotten, war-profiteering bastards!

An instant after she swiped her Hyperion employee badge, Sera was transported to Helios. Her boots made contact with the polished floor and immediately propelled her through the halls. Reaching the door of her office, she didn't pause to fix her disheveled appearance.

Swiping her card again, she unlocked the door and prepared to defend her cause. A yelp escaped her petite body as she clung to the doorframe, saving herself from involuntarily doing the splits. There was something slick on the floor.

Her first thought: _Who's the clumsy asshole who spilled coffee on my floor and didn't mop it up?_

Her second thought: _Oh fuck...that's not coffee._

The thick consistency and dark crimson color made her stomach turn. Beside the pool of blood was none other than Reginald Pallor; a Hyperion executive and a royal pain in her ass. Every meeting involved idle threats to cut off the DPR's resources, and Sera calling him out on his shit. While he used her to promote himself as some philanthropist, he spat on the cause. He didn't give a rat's ass about Pandora; he merely took advantage of the humanitarian platform. If anyone on Helios put a knife in her back, it would've been Reginald.

And there he was, dead on the floor, with a silver-and-gold pen lodged in his carotid artery.

_Wait...that's my lucky pen._

"Heh-heh-hey, _there_ she is! 'Bout time you showed up, cupcake! What am I payin' ya for? To stand around staring at some dead douchebag? I know, I know-- it's a mess. Don't worry, I'll have some other idiot clean it up. C'mon over here. Sit down, let's get this meeting started!"

That voice grated her nerves as well as it chilled her blood.

Lounging in _her_ chair, with his dusty, blood-stained boots propped up on _her _desk, was none other than Handsome Jack. He grinned like the homicidal cat who viciously devoured the canary.


	3. Chapter Two:

Being stabbed to death, Roman conspiracy-style, didn't seem like the worst day on the job. At least, when compared to the abundantly gruesome alternatives Handsome Jack could devise.

Ambushed by the CEO of Hyperion in her own office, Sera felt somewhat violated. There he sat in her chair, after having murdered Reginald with her lucky pen.

While the Head of the DPR's office wasn't a grand testament to power and excellence, it was cozy; her sanctuary of sorts. Hardly anyone was permitted to enter. The door could only be unlocked by her employee I.D. card. Of course, Jack had the power and security override to go wherever he pleased.

Regardless, it was an invasion of privacy and Sera resented it.

_And that's my bracelet..._

Jack held it in one large hand, which was, by the way, slathered in Reginald's blood. He twirled the trinket around with his fingers. The nosy bastard had unlocked the secret compartment under her desk, where she kept personal items of significant value. Now _that_ irked her, and Jack could see it. Like a sadistic feline dangling a captive mouse by the tail, he smirked and lightly shook the bracelet; challenging her to say something.

The man really enjoyed toying with people, to get some kind of reaction. She would just have to disappoint him by keeping cool.

Sidestepping the nauseating pool of blood, Sera allowed the automatic door to seal shut and approached with measured steps. There were two chairs set in front of the desk, for visitors. One was currently occupied by Henry. Relief swelled in her chest; he was unharmed, or at least still breathing. He glanced sideways as she eased down into the chair beside him.

Henry was a rather tall, lanky man. Recently he had changed up his hairstyle. Both sides of his head were close-shaved, leaving a thick strip of hair; the remaining locks were a couple inches long, slicked back except for a few strands that draped his forehead. Sera always liked his natural brown hair, but the deep blue suited him. It complimented his rich brown skin-tone.

Meeting his amber-colored eyes, Sera sought reassurance; Henry was the smartest man she knew. He was only a couple years older, but he possessed wisdom that rivalled their elders. Not to mention, he had scary-accurate foresight; something that made him great at his job, preventing Hyperion losses. He was a damn good thinker, hands down. So, if _he_ thought they were screwed, then things wouldn't end well.

With Jack watching and listening, they couldn't converse openly. But Henry had a grim look on his face. Subtly, he reached up to rub his chin and angled his thumb down. That was Henry code for _we're in deep shit. _Of course, Sera had already figured that much, but his confirmation made it real.

"So," Jack suddenly spoke, clapping his hands together. He intentionally tried to startle them both. Henry was immovable as stone. It took every ounce of self-discipline for Sera not to jump out of her skin.

"What's new kiddos?" Jack questioned, his mismatched eyes darting from Sera to Henry. She couldn't help but notice that his gaze lingered on her for several, anxious heartbeats longer.

_Oh hell..._Her mouth had dried up, making it difficult to swallow. Normally, she had no trouble with basic communication, but the fear of being strangled in the near future had her brain in survival mode. She was calculating how fast she could run, if he lunged for her. Could she escape Helios before he got his powerful hands around her neck? Panicking, she knew time was ticking and he wouldn't tolerate silence forever.

"Sera just got back from her meeting with the locals in Overlook," Henry spoke up, coming to her rescue, "She missed the celebration so she could establish connections there."

For that brief moment, Henry pulled Jack's attention away from Sera. It gave her an opportunity to breathe, centering herself. _Keep it together,_ she thought, licking her lips. Somehow moisture had returned, but she would kill for a cold glass of water.

"Sooo, how'd it gooo?" Jack asked her, dragging out the words to sound enthralled. He leaned over the desk, bracing an elbow to rest his chin against his hand, exaggerating his interest. "Meet any new friends? Did you braid each other's hair and talk about boys?"

It was like he was talking to a pre-teen girl, instead of an established woman like Seraphina. He was a condescending asshole, but she had to represent her department. Containing a snarky retort, she placed her somewhat-tattered bag on the desk and pulled out her notebook. Placing it on the smooth surface of the desk, she opened to the appropriate page so he could read along. Her finger subconsciously traced the sentences she wrote, more to keep track of her own thoughts than to guide his eye. In fact, he barely glanced at the notes, more interested in the details of her visage.

Being stared down by the most dangerous man in the solar system, she fought to maintain her composure. So far, she managed not to soil herself or crumple to the floor dramatically begging for her life. In that respect, she was already doing better than most people.

"It was brought to my attention that residents are suffering from something called 'Skull Shivers'. I'm not sure what that is, but people have died from it. They requested medicine," she informed, speaking concisely to avoid rambling. If Jack despised anyone more than bandits, that would be people who wasted his valuable time.

While she spoke, Jack actually listened; she expected him to doze off out of boredom or something.

"Oh right, right, that's a side effect of the drilling. It happens," he dismissed the subject, waving his hand as if it was no big deal.

Blinking, Sera glanced back down at her notes. She had subconsciously underlined the words "dying" and "medicine" to stress the urgent need for Hyperion aid.

"Handsome Jack, sir, these people are going to die unless they receive the care they need. The medicine is cheap, well within our budget," she persisted boldly, and noticed Henry looking her way. He subtly shook his head, warning her to let it go. Squaring her shoulders as she sat straight in her chair, she refused to be discouraged. Throwing caution to the wind, she added, "It's worth the small investment. Unless you want to inspire more rebels."

Henry covered up his incredulous _oh fuck me, she just said what?_ reaction by slapping a hand over his mouth, faking a light cough.

Jack leaned back slightly when her voice took on a passionate tone, unlike the forced calm she had initially started with. He tilted his head at that last comment, pursing his lips as he mulled things over. He might be considering her point, or more likely brainstorming creative ways to murder her.

When the silence had effectively become terrifying, Jack finally responded, "Why the hell not?" Waving his hands as if tossing the endless wads of cash at his disposal, he continued energetically, "Sure, send 'em medicine. Throw in a few teddy bears and blankies, too, while you're at it."

Exchanging a dumbfounded look with a stone-faced Henry, Sera eyed their boss in bewilderment. "Are you...serious?" she dared to ask. There was no telling when it came to Jack--he was infamous for many things, including cruel pranks.

"What'd'ya mean?" he challenged, sounding offended. "I'm a nice guy! I _love _charities! Like you said, I'm freakin' _made_ of money, baby," he stole the opportunity to boast. Those weren't the exact words Sera used, but she liked breathing, so she allowed him to paraphrase.

"What kind of king would I be if I didn't give a little back, huh? I mean it's not like I'm heartless!" Jack continued in his own defense, "Actually, it, uh...it kinda hurts my feelings you thought I'd joke about something like that."

Handsome Jack could be called many things; "charitable" was not one of them. Seraphina continued to stare at him, unsure whether or not she should put stock in his sincerity. To avoid offending him, though, she politely said, "Thank you, sir. That's...very kind."

"What can I say? I'm a people-pleaser," he grinned, feigning modesty. Then he adjusted his collar, unbothered by the blood. The viscous fluid slathered his hands, like he used it for a finger-painting, and some had even splattered his jacket and shirt. Sera truly did her best to ignore it, for her own sanity.

"Now that's outta the way, we can talk aboutthat dickhead," Jack continued, gesturing to the dead man on the floor.

"Why kill him?" the question slipped out of its own accord. Sera resisted the urge to slap a hand over her lips. Intense eyes bored into her like incendiary lasers; her cheeks flushed hot before draining of color. Had she spoken out of turn? Regardless of that fear, she braved his stare. It was an honest question.

"He pissed me off," Jack replied nonchalantly. "Something I strongly advise everyone to avoid doing, for the sake of their health. Also I'm uh... I'm sorry you almost broke your face, slipping in his blood. That was-ha ha, that was my fault, cupcake, but you've got some good reflexes. Really, now _that_ was impressive! The look on your face, though," he cackled at the memory, "Priceless, babe."

He had a morbid sense of humor. Sera was lass than amused; the smell of death would linger for weeks. When a thought occurred to her, it made her stomach clench. "So...if he's dead, who will be funding us?"

Jack pointed his finger at her with a burst of excitement. "Bingo! There it is, the question I _really_ hoped you'd ask! Good job catching on, you're a smart cookie. That means the money that goes into your paycheck isn't a waste."

Most would be swooning over the fact Handsome Jack was praising them. It just made Seraphina uncomfortable. Containing the restless urge to escape his presence, she waited for him to get to the point.

"From now on, kiddos, you answer to me_ directly_," Jack announced, as he leaned back in his chair. "You report to her," he instructed Henry in simple terms, then fixed his eyes on Sera. "And you report to me," he pointed at her, before planting hand on his chest. The guy was constantly making hand gestures and facial expressions; he had charisma, she would give him that much.

"I'm your _direct source_ for funding. Following so far? Good. I like you two, you're good listeners. As long as we understand each other..._ that _asshole won't be you," he then pointed to the fresh corpse of Reginald. "Mm'kay?"

"Yes, Handsome Jack, sir," Henry immediately responded, having kept silent a majority of the conversation. A robotic response.

Everything was such a shock to Sera. It felt like she had been ejected into space. Drifting with no control. Unable to breathe. Powerless.

Fingers snapped in her face, startling her from those isolating thoughts. Blinking, she refocused her vision on Jack, who had leaned over the desk so he could invade her personal bubble. The foul smell of blood mingled with earthy cologne; it was repulsive yet alluring in a disturbing way. Unable to breathe or think straight, she recoiled and pressed back into her chair. There was no mistaking the predatory look in his eyes. Jack knew how intimidating he could be, without even trying, and he reveled in it.

"Hi, welcome back," he teased, referencing the fact she had completely spaced out. "I said, you're gonna report to me, personally, from now on. Got it, pumpkin?"

Keeping him waiting for an answer was unwise. "I got it," she replied, shocking herself by the tone of her voice. It didn't come out timid or fearful, but strong and unwavering. Her chin remained lifted, almost defiant.

The subtle lift of his brow meant Jack noticed; her heart quickened, but she refused to meekly lower her eyes. No, she held his gaze. He might have everyone else on Helios acting like whipped dogs, cowering and scrambling to please him, but she wouldn't be bullied.

If her defiant eye angered Jack, he masked it very well. Smirking, he reached his blood-smeared hand toward her again. It was a large, powerful hand capable of crushing her windpipe. He merely gave her cheek a playful pinch.

"Good. That's what I like to hear. Well, this has been a productive day! Which reminds me..."

Rising from the chair, Jack grabbed his custom-designed Hyperion pistol and waved it in the air. Wide-eyed, Sera risked a glance at Henry, who gripped the arms of his chair; the only indication of his fear.

"I've got some Vault Hunters to kill!" Jack announced exuberanly. With a sly wink in Seraphina's direction, he purred, "_Ciao_."

Just like that, he hop-stepped over a very dead Reginald and departed. Astounded they survived a surprise meeting with _the_ Handsome Jack, Seraphina and Henry both stared at one another.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Henry suddenly exclaimed, launching to his feet. He stressfully pulled at his blue hair then rubbed his face, relieved to be among the living and exasperated all at once.

Indignant, she gaped at him. Still glued to her seat, she cried, "Me? _You_ wanted me to just throw everything out the window!"

Henry fixed his friend and colleage with a hard stare. "Come on, Sera. _Please _don't make me say it..."

Folding her arms, she squinted her eyes at him, waiting for his true feelings to be revealed.

"For the love of...Jack shouldn't have a hand in what we do, okay? He killed Reginald, because the asshat said what everyone else was thinking. Damn it, Sera! You're lucky he didn't put a bullet in _your_ head, the way you acted...He's not gonna give us anything. You know that! He just wants to watch us go down in flames. We're dicked."

Henry had started to rant, pacing the room with his hands on his hips. While he rarely raised his voice, it was tense and harsh at times. He usually remained very calm and collected, but Sera couldn't blame him for freaking out. The whole time Jack was breathing down their necks, he had been holding it in, trying not to become another puddle of blood on the floor. Who knew what Jack said to him before Sera arrived.

"The fact we're alive says something," she attempted to reassure him. It was true. Jack didn't just simply fire people who were useless, or allow them to find employment with his competitors. Nobody was allowed to live on Helios if they contributed nothing to its function or efficiency. Emphasis on _live_.

Henry made a face of puzzlement. "Did you...did you just give _Handsome Jack_ credit? Seriously?"

By DPR standards, that was an insult.

"No!" she defended, getting a bit angry by his insinuation. How had he come to that conclusion? Calming herself, she smoothly closed her notebook and rested both hands on its battered cover. Somehow, it radiated a sense of purpose. Everything she was passionate about, every life she had touched, all the unfinished projects; they were all contained within. Nobody in the Six Galaxies could rip that away.

"I'm not going to let him destroy us, Henry."

"Are we talking about the same person?" he deadpanned, arms flopping limply by his sides, "Destroying things is what Handsome Jack does. And he's the best at it. You know that, because _we _are damage control. When he blows up a whole ass train to kill a handful of Vault Hunters, _we_ visit local settlements to apologize, and deliver consolation gifts for the people who can't receive their trade goods anymore. Jack doesn't care about--"

"Let me handle Jack, okay? Contrary to what 'everyone thinks', I know what I'm doing. Have a little confidence in me, sheesh," she bitterly muttered that last. It kind of hurt how he was already accepting defeat.

Henry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose; that guilt trip took effect. "Sera, you know that's not what I..." he trailed off, at a loss for words while she pouted slightly. Rolling his eyes at her dramatics, he sat back down next to her.

"Hey," he called softly, trying to get her to look at him. "We're in this thing together. I believe in you, it's just...please, be careful how you talk to that guy."

"I know what he's capable of, Henry..." she responded in a hushed tone.

Remembering the fact Jack touched her face with his bloody hand, Sera shivered. "Reginald was an asshole, though. Jack kind of did us a favor."

Henry wasn't appalled; he felt the same way. "Yeah, but I think I'll skip dinner tonight. Something about watching a guy choke on his own blood...kind of ruins your appetite."

"When I get home, I'm taking a piping hot shower. Being groped by a scummy drunk kinda makes you wanna scrub your skin off," she countered, letting him know she had a shitty day as well.

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" he asked, making a face like he was deciphering a complex code. After some thought, he shook his head, declaring, "Nope. Didn't work."

That made Seraphina laugh a bit. Henry chuckled despite himself, and the two friends sat in thoughtful silence for a while longer, hesitant to go separate ways.

A tentative knock at the door forced Sera to stand. Henry did the same, watching like a protective hawk as she opened the door. There stood a janitor. Some newbie fresh out of high school, whose chubby cheeks turned a shade of green at the sight of the corpse on the floor.

"Uhm...Handsome Jack t-told me there was trash..." the poor kid managed to choke out.

Seraphina pitied him; more so than she could ever pity Reginald. "Yeah...he meant a dead body," the older girl explained as gently as she could, but the damage was done.

Obviously, it wasn't his job to dispose of corpses. It was a dick move on Jack's part to involve him, just to make a mockery of the deceased Hyperion executive.

As much as she had loathed the bastard, it unsettled Sera watching his body get unceremoniously tossed into a trash bin. Henry's warning replayed over in her mind, as the sickened janitor reluctantly mopped up the blood; obliterating all evidence of the homicide.

_Careful how you talk to that guy..._

Handsome Jack must have some ulterior motives for ggetting directly involved with the Department of Pandoran Relations. Either he was impressed by the reputation Seraphina had established, or he wanted to dismantle everything she built. She was determined to figure out which.


	4. Chapter Three:

_Hyperion yellow. When in doubt, it never fails to represent the company!_

Fussing in front of the full-length mirror in the entryway of her apartment, Seraphina disgusted herself. Muting the fashion advice A.I. installed in her closet, she wished it was that easy to shut up the critical voice in her own mind.

Why was she so anxious? Like an insecure teenager getting ready for a date with some hot body. For fuck's sake, she confronted marauding bandit leaders, and survived multiple run-ins with rebels crusading across Pandora, shooting Hyperion lackeys for the fun of it. If she emerged from those encounters alive, certainly she could handle a brisk walk to Handsome Jack's office.

A week had passed since Sera and Henry formally met Handsome Jack. That whole unsettling incident had everyone in the Department of Pandoran Relations practically soiling themselves. Reginald's coldblooded execution was a clear-cut message to all; no one but Jack held true power.

Despite her associates' collective dread of being shot, or ejected out of an airlock, Jack hadn't made any decisions to purge Helios of "bandit sympathizers" or otherwise undermine Sera's authority. He merely instructed his A.I. assistant, Angel, to monitor things on his behalf while he tended to more demanding business matters on Pandora.

In the meantime, Frigg contacted Sera with her thanks for the quick delivery of Skull Shivers medicine. Funnily enough, Jack had stayed true to his word. With the way things were going, Hyperion had plenty of wealth to redistribute; they were making a literal killing off the increasing state of unrest on Pandora.

Now it was time for Seraphina to uphold her end. Angel regularly updated him on the DPR's every movement, but Jack would be expecting Sera to personally deliver her report. Simple enough on paper; more challenging in execution.

It wasn't as if Sera had a crush on Jack. In fact, she hated his guts. Perhaps it was just self-preservation, manifesting itself as crippling anxiety and self-doubt. That had to be it, because she would rather be strangled to death than even imagine being romantically involved with a warmonger. Which had a high probability of happening (the strangling part).

Her dusty yellow, rakk-leather jacket had become a permanent staple in her everyday attire. More than that, it seemed to be part of her identity; people recognized it, and by extension, Sera.

Steeling her coiled nerves, she pieced together an appropriate outfit. Simple grey, fitted pants, and a black and white asymmetrical blouse. Throwing her dark brown hair into a messy ponytail, she applied mascara and some chapstick. Then she defaulted to the trusty boots that carried her across the harshest landscapes Pandora had to offer. They were skag-skin, with gold-tinted metal plates on the toes and heels. The perfect gear for navigating the corporate hell that was Helios.

Now that Jack had his eye on her, so did all of Hyperion. It was a strange feeling. Clawing her way up the food chain was equally rewarding as it was dangerous. If she had a target on her back before, now there was a neon sign flashing in bold red: Easy prey.

_Careful how you talk to that guy…_

Promptly exiting her apartment, Sera opted to make the long trek from the Helios Faculty Housing Complex to Jack's office. Haunted by the wise advice of her best friend, and the bloody vision of Reginald, she never actually slept.

It didn't help that Henry hadn't answered her ECHO-call earlier. It was unlike him to ignore Sera, especially following such a distressing change in the managerial hierarchy. The previous day, he complained about feeling under the weather. Maybe he was just sleeping in...

Eventually, Sera reached the gleaming Hyperion Hub of Heroism. The door leading to Jack's office required special clearance to access.

Stepping in front of the material scanner, she remained poised while a red laser analyzed her genetic code. After a brief moment, a cheerful female A.I. spoke, "Access approved. Readings confirm that you are: a sassy cupcake."

Hearing herself officially identified as a "sassy cupcake" momentarily baffled Seraphina. Then it clicked in her mind. Handsome Jack had seriously taken time out of his life to change her name in the Hyperion-regulated ECHO-net database, for the sole purpose of annoying her. It shouldn't have come as a surprise...

Entering the grand corridor, she began the ridiculously long walk to the office ahead. The whole way, the tough soles of her boots—which were far stealthier in natural environments—created steady thuds, obnoxiously loud in the otherwise quiet space. Nearing the large, motion-activated doors, she paused to gather her nerves.

The entire week, she avoided thinking about the impending confrontation with Handsome Jack. If she was honest with herself, he got under her skin.

Nobody on Helios or Pandora had ever managed to unhinge Sera like he did. She considered just leaving the paperwork outside the door, but there were a few things wrong with that. One; it was cowardly. Two; it was unprofessional and impersonal. Three; Jack would hunt her down, and inconveniencing him would greatly increase the risk of strangulation.

So, she had to put her Big Girl Panties on.

The doors slid open to reveal the glamour and gleaming grandeur that was Jack's office. Its high ceiling and vast expanse made her feel insignificant. Positioned on a platform, there was the desk that served as the epicenter of power. The cushioned chair was a golden throne befitting a king. At the moment, it was empty.

Jack had stepped out.

One of her boots edged slightly backwards. If she was intruding, maybe it was best to wait outside for his return. Then again, he directly instructed her to report to him first thing in the morning. In the end, curiosity got the better of her.

Passing the two identical busts carved into Jack's likeness, she rolled her eyes. _Such a narcissist…_

Seraphina ventured deeper into the enormous room, approaching a section of shelving which displayed some of his most prized possessions. One of them appeared to be a goatee encased in glass..._Weirdo_.

Inevitably, she lost interest in the room itself. One could only take so much _Jack_.

Pulled to the window overlooking Elpis, she pressed a hand to the reinforced glass. The surface of the battered moon was scarred. Sadness plucked at her heartstrings, like a harpist playing a mournful song. Elpis wasn't her true home; neither was Pandora.

All the same, honor bound her to save what remained. Witnessing the violent end of one planet had been devastating enough…

"There's my sassy cupcake!"

Torn out of her reverence by that sudden voice, she nearly smacked her forehead against the glass. Recovering from that minor heart attack, she turned to see Handsome Jack striding toward her, dragging another person along.

"Henry?!" she called his name impulsively, unnerved by the fact he was being aggressively manhandled by Jack.

Blue hair a tangled mess, her friend looked like hell. His purple shirt was haphazardly buttoned, half-tucked into his black slacks as it had been thrown on in haste.

Mirroring her confusion, his amber eyes searched hers for any explanation. Jack had his strong hand clamped around the nape of the skinnier man's neck, forcing him to walk. As if Henry would be foolish enough to resist.

"Jack, what—"

Ushering a compliant Henry toward one of the chairs in front of his desk, Jack cut her off, "Everyone just sit down and shut up for like, five seconds. Can ya do that for me, pumpkin?"

His tone was harsh at first before melting into an almost soothing purr.

With Jack's steel grip on his neck, the younger man had no choice but to allow himself to be forced down into the velvet cushion. Releasing his grip, Jack gave his cheek a quick pat. Whether it was meant to be comforting, or just a way to taunt him, one couldn't be sure.

Obeying his command was the best way to avoid escalating the situation. Quickly abandoning the window, she approached the remaining seat. Jack nodded approval when Sera lowered herself down. Without a word, he sauntered around his desk.

Collapsing into his golden throne with a contented sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment. Then he leaned forward, folding his hands under his chin. That infamous smirk was plastered on his handsome face, while he indiscreetly gave her the once-over.

Sera had seen that look before. During her first year on Helios--back when she was part of the Hyperion Intern Program-- she attended one of the annual company celebrations. Corporate warmongers, resource leeches, and ass-kissers were all invited. At the time, she had been a glorified coffee-maker. None of it had been enjoyable for her, but all employees were required to attend.

Handsome Jack had given one of his speeches, as tradition dictated. Long story short, one moron had become inebriated enough to think climbing on stage was a good idea. He interrupted Jack's speech by vomiting all over his expensive shoes. Everyone in the room had gasped, including Sera. At first, Jack laughed it off. To the audience's shock and confusion, the CEO handled the situation with good grace. For the briefest second, eighteen-year-old Sera thought the ruthless dictator might be capable of forgiveness.

That naiveté had been crushed along with the poor drunk's skull.

Jack had smashed his emptied whiskey glass over the man's head. Most would've stopped there--not Jack. After the drunk went down, he stomped on the man's face with terrifying brute force. By the time he tired himself out, there was nothing but an unrecognizable, bloody mess of cracked bone and pulverized flesh.

Before he snapped, Jack had the same look on his face. Deceptively calm. False smile. A calculating stare, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Presently, Jack moved his hands outward, palms extended invitingly as he fixed Sera with a questioning stare. "Sooo? What'd'ya got for me?"

Whatever confidence she had before just disintegrated. The only thing preventing her from shutting down was Henry; even in his bedraggled, fatigued state, his presence was a comfort.

"Here, Jack, sir," she managed to say, without stammering. Dutifully, she held out the folder containing her typed report. It had taken several hours to organize everything from her notebook into a comprehensive log of activity.

"Seriously? You're handing me _paper_?" Jack asked, so perplexed he didn't even crack a smile. "What, you can't figure out how to work an ECHO recorder?"

"Sorry. Where I'm from, people prefer to see things on paper," she defended, "I guess I'm just not used to all this tech. Old habits, you know..." she trailed off, becoming increasingly insecure about her unorthodox methods. He hadn't lifted a hand to take the report; instead, he simply eyed her with that puzzled expression. Clearing her throat softly, she briefly lowered her eyes.

Leaving the room sounded like a good idea. There was a scanner that digitally converted written words into audio, in the communications office. Somewhat dejected, Sera pulled the folder back. "I could go scan them—"

Waving his hand to dismiss that, Jack cut her off, "No, no, don't bother. I can read. It's not a big deal, cupcake. Just not what I'm used to. Give it here, lemme see what you crazy kiddos have been up to."

Extending his hand, Jack waggled his fingers, goading Sera to place the folder within reach. Grabbing it with an unsubtle eyeroll, he sighed whilst flopping it over his lap, thumbing over every page. His eyes diligently scanned her words; he was a fast reader, but he actually put in effort rather than skimming carelessly.

Tilting her face toward Elpis, Sera discreetly observed his expression while he flipped through the report. Despite the fact he wore a mask—literally—it wasn't difficult to make out his emotions. He had that smirk permanently plastered on his face, but he furrowed his brow in deep-thought. For whatever reason, he hadn't tossed the report directly into the trash. Maybe everyone was wrong; maybe he _did_ care about Pandora.

"Nice work, cupcake," he praised, before tossing the thick folder onto his desk. Arms folded, he smiled and leveled his heterochromatic eyes at Sera. "Keep it up, really, you're _killing it._ Oh, maybe that was a poor choice of words," he chuckled to himself.

That little jab at her pacifism wasn't lost on Sera, but she chose not to give him a reaction. Blinking slowly, she was unsure if that was her cue to leave. "Is...is that all you needed, sir?"

"Actually, no, so glad you asked. To be honest, that was just an excuse to get you in here," he admitted shamelessly, knitting his fingers together over his lap "I want us to get to know each other better. By that, I _really_ mean that I'm gonna ask you questions. And you're gonna answer them with one-hundred-percent honesty. How's that sound, pumpkin? Good? Okay, cool."

Henry bowed his head, keeping his mouth shut. When Sera risked a sideways glance, he avoided eye-contact; that didn't bode well. Returning her attention to Jack, she asked uneasily, "So...what do you want to know?"

"How about we start with the fact you weren't born in this solar system?" he suggested. The tone of his voice was nonchalant, but he had a smug look. The look of a man who had dirt on someone.

Henry then gave her a sidelong glance; one of confusion, and a hint of denial. Had Jack interrogated him earlier?

_Shit…_The truth would've surfaced eventually--she just never expected Handsome Jack to be the one to confront her. Shifting her posture, Sera crossed her arms and--naturally--denied whatever she was being accused of, "I don't know what you're talking about. My birth certificate says—"

"Fabrication, sweetheart," Jack interrupted, folding his arms to mimic her stubborn posture. He smirked, knowing he had Sera backed into a corner, "It's not hard to find some keyboard-humping desk-monkey around here to falsify records. Just come clean, Sera. Unless you're telling me _this_ isn't yours?"

Reaching into his pocket, he held something up for her to see. Dangling from his fingers was her bracelet--the one he swiped from the private compartment under her desk. It had been cleansed of Reginald's blood, glittering a bright gold in the soft light of his office. The colorful, orb-like charms sparkled as they swayed helplessly in his oppressive grasp. Instinctively, Sera reached out to retrieve what belonged to her.

"Ah, ah," Jack chided, curling his fist around the bracelet and snatching it well out of reach. Leaning back in his chair, he tilted slightly away and held the fragile trinket in front of his face. He watched the gold and exquisite diamond reflect the light, mesmerized by its beauty, while Sera resisted the urge to lunge over his desk like a bloodthirsty psycho.

"I was just curious, really. Wanted to know where this little beauty came from. Ya'know, in case I wanted to buy another one just like it. Imagine the look on my face when Angel told me this: It's not even made of stuff you can find in our galaxy! Crazy, right? But it got me thinking...how did it end up in _your _desk? So, tell me where you're really from. Because I _really_ don't like secrets."

There was no way Seraphina would spill her guts to Handsome Jack, of all people. Feeling bold, she gave him a skeptical look.

"Really? You're worked up over _bracelet_?" she asked, laughing a bit. When his smirk vanished, she rethought the whole smartass, reverse psychology thing. "I just found it, okay? I don't know where it came from."

It was lame, but the laser-hot glare burning into her face made it difficult to think of a better lie. Not only did Jack look unconvinced, he seemed to be considering homicide.

Rising from his chair, Jack smoothly stepped around the desk. Every muscle in her body tensed, as she watched him perch on the edge closeby. Sliding over, he sat directly in front of her, so his broad shoulders blocked her view of the infinite cosmos behind him. Arms folded, he held the glimmering jewelry in plain sight, wrapped around his knuckles.

"Let me ask you again. And this time, I want the truth. Because if you lie to me, _I'll snap your freakin' neck_," he threatened. The tone of his voice was menacingly casual, almost upbeat. If Sera didn't know any better, she might've thought he was joking.

"There are only two kinds of people who hide shit. Ok? There's people who want to escape their past...and no-good, back-stabbing, _mother fucking spies_!" he practically snarled that last.

Volatile temper flaring, Jack snagged hold of Henry, yanking him out of his seat by his shirt-front. Buttons clattered to the floor at their feet and seams tore as the fabric pulled taut in Jack's brutal fist. His other hand freed the pistol from its holster at his hip. Unforgiving metal pressed hard against the tender flesh under Henry's chin. While the younger man was startled, he didn't grovel or fight. He braved the wrath of Jack, on Sera's behalf.

Distressed to see her friend in such a life-threatening position, she reached out pleadingly.

"Don't hurt him, please, he doesn't know anything about this!"

Jack laughed harshly, giving her the side-eye. "Oh I know that, sweetheart. He's here to make sure you tell the truth, because I'm gonna be straight with you—it would be a shame if that cute little outfit of yours got covered in your BFF's brain matter."

There was no reasoning with the maniac when he was two seconds away from murdering her best friend. Coming clean was the only way to ensure Henry's brains remained inside his head. Espionage was a serious accusation with fatal repercussions, but Jack was the last person Sera ever considered telling the truth about her origin. Not even Henry knew...

"Tick, tock, pumpkin," Jack warned in a musical tone, glancing down at the watch he wore over his chest. His patience was running out, along with Henry's lifespan. "Let's hear it!"

"Earth!" Seraphina blurted out, causing the man to blink in confusion. More calmly, she disclosed, "I...I was born on a planet called Earth."

Judging by the look on his face, he had no idea what she was talking about; nobody in the Six Galaxies knew of the tragic, lonely blue marble. He needed more information than that, if he was going to let Sera and Henry walk out of his office alive.

"The humans there destroyed it...the Earth just, well...died," Sera woefully explained to both men, unable to look at either of them. Digging her fingernails into her arm, she swallowed hard at the imaginary obstruction in her throat. It was sorrow, threatening to take solid form.

"Well that's just the saddest damn sob story I've ever heard," Jack responded halfheartedly. The skepticism was clear in his tone. "And just how did you—sole survivor of planet Earth—end up here on my space station?"

"There were other survivors," she corrected, talking softly as she fought to contain her emotions. "We only made it because aliens…I mean, other people, rescued us. The Saviors, we called them. Only a handful of us escaped. The rest perished, along with the Earth. With our home gone, we were galactic refugees. The Saviors gave us new identities--new homes. My family and friends didn't..." pausing to sniffle and wrangle long-buried grief, Sera exhaled and finished, "They didn't make it. I was a child, then. So I was given to a man on Elpis, who raised me. When I was old enough, I signed up for your intern program. I've worked here for two years. Henry can confirm that, at least…"

Jack listened intently to her heartbreaking origin story. He tilted his head, frowning a bit toward the end. For a moment, he seemed sympathetic, or maybe Sera was giving him too much credit. His eyes fell to the bracelet still wrapped around his knuckles. It was impossible to predict what he was thinking, but his tightly knotted brow hinted at lingering suspicions. His blue-and-green eyes narrowed skeptically. His trust issues and trigger-happy disposition endangered anyone he deemed untrustworthy.

"The birth certificate you have is fake, yeah," Sera admitted, given the opportunity to speak in her defense, "but I'm not working for any third party. I'm not a spy. Neither is Henry. We just want to do what we can to help Pandora. Same as you, Jack."

Henry had been silent the entire time. He looked more fatigued than terrified. Finally, Jack tucked his gun back into its holster. Shoving the skinnier man back into his seat, their boss folded his arms once more. Pursing his lips in consideration, he glanced from Sera to the sulking blue-haired man, deciding what to do with them both.

"Alright, kiddo, you're free to go," Jack said to Henry.

Baffled, Henry opened his mouth as if to protest, but thought better of it. Nodding once, he muttered, "Yes, sir," and stood rather shakily. Sera naturally reached out to steady him. Sharply jerking his arm away from her touch, Henry rejected the comfort; she legitimately felt a stabbing pain in her chest.

"Wow, that's cold," Jack commented, whistling through his teeth as watched the wordless exchange between them.

Without saying a thing, Henry turned his back on Sera and exited the office.

Alone with Jack, she was forced to conceal the heart-rending guilt over what happened. Sera never wanted any harm to come to Henry over her secret.

"Well, Sera. Lucky for you, I'm in a good mood. Normally I would've just shot the both of you. These goddamn interrogations just eat up precious time."

"Then why waste your time?" she questioned sharply, unable to be her courteous, softspoken self. There was no taking it back, so she set her jaw. Something kept him from straight up murdering her; might as well take advantage of it.

Jack remained seated on his desk in front of her, smirking. He seemed to mull that over for a second, deciding how to answer.

"_Because_...you're one of the few people on this space station worth the oxygen they breathe," he stated flatly, shrugging as if that were obvious. "And I like your attitude. Even if you're a little stuck up."

Leave it to Jack to compliment and insult a woman, all in the same breath.

"I'm flattered," she replied sarcastically.

Jack stopped smiling, but he looked more thoughtful than ticked off.

"One last question," he proposed. Directing a pointed glance at the bracelet still decorating his knuckles, he asked, "What does this little beauty mean to you?"

"It was a birthday gift. It reminds me of what I lost. So I'd like it back," Sera stated that last firmly, not caring to whom she was speaking. That bracelet represented not only the loved ones who perished--or the billions of lives destroyed--but the vow she made to the universe. Each charm embodied the nine planets eviscerated; a dead solar system in a forgotten galaxy.

Jack lifted a brow at her commanding attitude.

"Nah, I think I'll keep it," he mused, smirking while he secured the magnetic clip around his wrist; it was a snug fit. He raised his arm and tilted his hand, admiring how the glittering chain and shining gems looked against his skin.

"Consider it a penalty, for lying to me."

"What? I told you the truth!" Sera cried, infuriated by his ruthless teasing.

"Yeah, _after_ I threatened you and your boyfriend, cupcake," he practically groaned, "Why do I have to threaten people all the damn time? I mean, seriously. It's like everyone _wants_ me to violently murder them."

"That belongs to me, you have no right to take it!"

Possessed by the rage he ignited, the girl stood up. Jack looked utterly astounded, as she glared up at him with her fists curled by her sides. When he exhaled, the hot breath fanned her cheeks, making her stomach clench.

Sitting on the edge of his desk, he was elevated an inch or so higher than usual. Seraphina was standing between his legs, while he essentially loomed over her. When the shock of her defiance wore off, his stunned expression became rigid. He fully processed the fact she had just challenged his authority.

She was about to die.


	5. Chapter Four:

***Greetings, once again. So I've noticed the original version of Black Out Days has weird chunks missing--like, broken sentences. It's really annoying to go back and see my writing got partially erased...I don't know HOW that happened (probably from copying and pasting in doc manager with bad internet) but I've gone and fixed that in THIS version. So, hooray for editing!****From here on out, you will notice more differences, if you read the original. If not, well, it's all new and exciting (I hope)!***

Warm palms rested on the base of her slender neck; her lungs were already tightening, anticipating the slow and violent death to come. Jack deliberately ran a thumb over the delicate skin of her throat. Seraphina theorized that he was savoring the moment before he crushed her windpipe.

Begging for her life wouldn't help, even if she resorted to forsaking her pride and dignity. Jack detested such cowardice; if anything, spineless groveling only tempted him to drag out the kill. She refused to give him that satisfaction.

"Y'know, I thought it was cute, how you're so sassy, but that right there... I can't put up with that, cupcake."

"So you're gonna kill me over a bracelet?" the younger girl challenged, getting her jab in while she could. "Whatever makes you feel like a man, Jack."

The fingers tightened slightly around her neck, but she bravely met his eyes. He leaned closer, his nose almost touching hers. When he applied more pressure to her throat, her fingers nervously dug into the firm muscle of his forearms. Would she have any chance of actually fighting him off? The odds of that were slim; Seraphina was a diplomatic pacifist, not a trained Hyperion soldier or experienced Vault Hunter.

Just when Sera expected his hand to clamp tightly over her windpipe, he robbed her of breath in an entirely different way. His lips captured hers in a powerful kiss.

Stunned, she remained motionless. The kiss was over quickly; Jack didn't wait for it to be reciprocated or not. When he pulled back, he studied her reaction and laughed uncontrollably. It sounded different than the last few times she heard him laugh. It wasn't cruel; more light-hearted, like she just told him a joke.

Cheeks on fire, Sera leaned back slightly, while his grip on her neck loosened. Jack grinned down at her, looking very amused with himself.

"I'm not gonna kill ya, pumpkin!" he exclaimed with another chuckle. Then he furrowed his brow critically, shaking his head. "Really though, you were just gonna let me strangle you? Ha-ha, wow, that's uh...well, pretty disappointing. I thought you'd at least fight back."

"I knew...you were bluffing," she defended, a bit out of breath. Her poor heart was still pounding in her chest from that narrow brush with death. While she definitely hoped he was just toying with her, Jack was difficult--no, _impossible--_ to predict.

"You're cute when you're all flustered," he commented, as his hands lingered on her shoulders. The anger over her dishonesty and falsified records had evaporated entirely; had it all been an act? His expression softened, as his vibrant eyes peered seductively into hers.

Light-headed, Sera was convinced all the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

Her rational senses were clouded by the scent of his cologne. Unlike before, there was no blood soaking his clothes; in fact, they were spotless. Momentarily distracted, she was unaware of how close he leaned in until his lips grazed hers again. Alarms went off in her head. Whatever was happening, decency called for it to stop.

Recoiling from the sensual temptation, she overestimated how much room she had to escape. Catching the back of her knees on the seat behind her, there was a dull ache as her ass planted down hard. Clinging to the arm rests, Sera felt the momentum going backwards and braced for the worst.

_Oh hell--_

Before she could suffer a humiliating fall, Jack reacted with lightning quick reflexes. His boot planted on the chair—between her legs—stabilizing it. The man didn't say a damn word; he merely eyed her with a self-satisfied smirk.

Sweltering underneath her rakk-hide jacket, Sera considered ripping it off. But that might give Jack the wrong idea.

"Uhm…I…" she attempted, breathing heavily. Her lips were still tingling from the brief contact, which only made her increasingly flustered. Jack quirked an eyebrow, inviting her to continue. Thinking fast, she announced, "I should get back to work."

Blushing like mad, she scooted her chair back a tad. His sturdy boot slid off the chair, allowing her to stand. Jack remained seated on his desk, arms folded once more, watching her almost stumble to regain her personal space.

The air between them had become electrified, and being in such close proximity to Jack felt destabilizing. The heat of his eyes on her body were enough to make her knees tremble. Desperate for some fresh air that didn't smell of his cologne, she set her sights on the exit.

"Hey, hang on a hot second."

Hating how her stomach had taken up gymnastics, the girl reluctantly turned back to face her boss. Pushing away from his desk, Jack strolled over to stand in front of her. Thankfully, he decided to allow her room to breathe. Removing the bracelet from his wrist, he held it delicately between his fingers. There was something uncharacteristically sentimental about his softened expression. His lips pouted softly, while his mismatched eyes held compassion that perplexed Seraphina beyond words.

He wanted to put the bracelet on her wrist himself.

Speechless, she complied, lifting her hand up. Jack was gentle as he secured the exquisite chain around her wrist, ceremoniously relinquishing it to its rightful owner.

"No more secrets," Jack said; it was a fair warning.

"Of course not, sir," she replied quietly.

There it was; the infamous grin that broke hearts and terrified his enemies. "That's what I like to hear," he purred. His large hand lingered near hers, grazing the sensitive skin with his fingertips before pulling away. "Oh, and uh, see you next week, sweet cheeks."

Abruptly turning on his heel, he strode back over to his desk, whistling almost cheerfully. He was a busy man with a highly-competetive company to run and a war-torn planet to dominate. That was Sera's cue to leave his ridiculously-huge office; a golden opportunity that she gladly stole.

_What in the actual fuck just happened? _

On the list of things that made logical sense in the universe, being kissed by Handsome Jack was definitely not a contender. The two of them were polar opposites. If politics could be embodied by material objects, Seraphina would be a care package filled with goodies; Jack would be a nuclear warhead.

Disregarding the fact he was responsible for the New Haven massacre, he almost put a bullet in Henry's skull. All of those things appalled and disgusted Sera. So, how could she feel so exhilarated after his lips made contact with hers?

Consumed by the onslaught of shame and conflicting emotions, she was recklessly unaware of the lithe figure shadowing her through the corridor. Sliding her I.D. badge through the slot, she unlocked the door to her cozy office. Shedding the stifling rakk-hide jacket with a huff of relief, she was eager to have some privacy.

Subconsciously, the girl side-stepped the spot on the floor where Reginald bled out. While every inch of the floor had been sanitized, her mind's eye could never be scrubbed clean of the gore.

When she reached for the button that would secure the door, a strange electric field caused her to pause. The air directly in front of her appeared empty, but instinct argued to the contrary.

Sensing another presence, her skin prickled as the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Holding her breath, Sera dared to slowly extend her fingertips closer to the doorway. Farther…farther…

Nothing solid could be felt. There was nothing, or nobody, in front of her. Maybe she was delusional from lack of sleep and post-traumatic stress...

Except now the strange electricity had moved behind her, like a circling phantom. Spine rigid, she had no time to escape the room before an invisible--but very solid--hand pressed over her mouth. An arm wrapped around her chest, extending underneath her chin, as another hand grasped her shoulder; the unidentified person was very tall and lean-muscled.

"_No one must hear us./ Lock the door, Seraphina./ I mean you no harm."_

The intruder's voice was distinctly male, somewhat distorted.

Those words had been carefully chosen to pacify her; whoever the mysterious intruder was, they intended to engage in conversation rather than just slit her throat. Complying with their instructions, she calmly reached out and confirmed a security lockdown. There was a soft beeping sound as the room was sealed; no eavesdroppers would be able to overhear--at least not those outside, waltzing along the corridors.

Shedding the high-tech cloak he had been using to remain unseen, he loosened his hold and took a respective step backwards.

Dignified and levelheaded in tense situations, Seraphina turned to face the intruder. Clad in a black, armored bodysuit, he was definitely not from Pandora, Elpis, or the Edens. None of his tactical gear was manufactured by any of the top leading corporations. To protect his identity, his face was concealed behind an odd, elongated helmet. Where in the Six Galaxies had he come from?

"_Listen to my words./ Your life holds significance;/ I must preserve it._"

As if things couldn't become any more confusing, some mercenary has appeared speaking riddles. What fresh hell had she been cast into?

The stranger tilted his head as Sera edged around him, holding her hand out to fend off any approach.

"Look, whatever this is, I'm really not in the mood. I don't know who you are—who even are you?"

There was a brief silence. Then a numerical symbol projected over his helmet.

"Zer0?"

A smile emoticon appeared, confirming that she was correct. Zer0 had a strange way of communicating.

"Okay…Zer0. Why are you here exactly?"

"_Knowledge is power./ Her motives concealed, but pure;/ Angel guided me_."

Was he being deliberately vague, or was his speech limited to haiku? Sera wasn't entirely sure what to think of this Zer0 character, but she got the impression he might not know much else. Reflecting on what little information he offered, she recognized a name.

"Wait, did you say 'Angel'?" she questioned, moving a step closer.

Zer0 nodded.

That made no sense; she was a super A.I. programmed to monitor and control the ECHO-net, in service to Jack.

"Why would _Angel_ hire you to protect me?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Zer0 responded with "IDK" displayed over his helmet.

_Well, that's helpful._ Planting a hand on her forehead, the girl sighed and did her best to remain calm.

How in the hell was he able to get aboard Helios, anyway? Cloaking capabilities aside, security was pretty tight--especially with the whole resistence thing going on. Sneaking onto the station was next to impossible; unless he stowed away aboard a Hyperion ship, which he very well could have. If Angel really was involved, she could easily shield him from detection...

Drowning in a tidal wave of confusion, Seraphina was miliseconds away from having a meltdown.

"You can't be here, Zer0," she warned stressfully, "If anyone sees you—"

Zer0 vanished the instant Seraphina suggested he could be detected without wanting to be. That was a solid argument as any. When he reappeared, a winking emoticon displayed over his head.

"Fair enough," she sighed, folding her arms. "So...what now? You're going to be my shadow for…how long?"

"_A ghost in the shell;/ I shall exist in shadow/ until the threat is gone._"

In other words, he hadn't the slightest idea.

Heaving another sigh, she accepted the inescapable reality. His presence would be a constant in the foreseeable future; might as well get used to it.

"Well, I have work to do," she informed, heading over to her desk. Slumping down into her chair, she was dreadfully aware of her exhaustion. Mentally, physically, emotionally...

Zer0 remained in the position he had been holding the entire time. It was a kind of unnerving how little he moved. His back was turned to Sera, as he seemed to focus his undivided attention on the door.

"Uh...you can sit down, you know," she offered, gesturing toward the sofa pushed up against the far wall a few feet away from her desk. It was a small lounging area; sometimes she would catch up on missed sleep, or read a book. The cushions tempted her to take advantage of them, but she couldn't fall any farther behind in her work.

Zer0 glanced over his shoulder, either looking at her or the sofa.

"_Such a kind offer__,_" he responded courteously, but was otherwise unmoved; the guy was tense as hell.

"My office is secure. Nobody can get in, unless I grant access," Sera attempted to reassure him. Despite the confidence she had in the security system, she began to feel paranoid due to his tension. "Chill out, damn. You're making me anxious."

"_Apologies, Sera./ This place is not safe."_

Everyone who survived their orientation day knew Helios wasn't much safer than Pandora. Instead of being mangled and eaten by wildlife or bandit clans, you were competing with hundreds of people vying--and dying--for praise and recognition from their beloved CEO and dictator, Handsome Jack. Seraphina never disregarded the backstabbing or blackmailing of Hyperion employees--it came with the territory.

Reginald had been the direct threat to Seraphina and her department--until Handsome Jack eliminated him with a limited edition, Hyperion ball-point through his carotid artery. So, that begged the question: What new threat was Zer0 meant to guard her from?

Regardless of the unnamed conspirators lurking within Helios, Zer0 amiably humored Sera's wishes to chill out. In a languid motion, he abandoned his self-appointed post in the center of the room to approach the sofa. Pivoting on his heel, he cautiously lowered himself onto the middle cushion, perching on the edge. Sera watched him, fascinated by his movements; they were deliberate, executed with effortless grace and precision.

Resting his gloved hands atop his thighs, he remained on high alert. He seemed to notice Sera staring, because he slowly eased himself back until he appeared more comfortable.

"Better," she commented with a smirk. An audible chuckle came from Zer0, but he had no verbal rebuttal.

Returning to her work--sorting emails, analzying reports, monitoring the ongoing relations with established contacts--very little progress was made before Sera could feel herself shutting down. Losing focus, her mind wandered to her mysterious new companion.

Something about him seemed oddly familiar...

_"No more secrets."_

_"Of course not, sir."_

Recalling that recent exchange with Jack, she fought back hysterical laughter. There would be _severe_ consequences for neglecting to report Zer0's infiltration of Helios. While it would be in Sera's best interest, she wasn't the type to throw others under the bus to save her own ass. With that said, she had to wonder just _who_ Zer0 was, and whether or not he could be trusted.

Unable to pacify the curiosity distracting her from her work, Sera decided to access the Hyperion database for wanted criminals. Risking a glance at her silent protector, she confirmed he had not moved a muscle since he seated himself. Scrolling through the lists, she searched for anything connected to his name and physical description.

Sure enough, there was a serious bounty on Zer0's head. The offense: political assassination. The reward: thirty-two billion dollars.

Even more concerning: He was one of the four Vault Hunters wreaking havoc on Pandora--and royally pissing off Handsome Jack. Slaughtering scores of bandits, wildlife, and Hyperion soldiers alike.

"_Blood spilled for money./ I feel no shame reaping souls./ It is what I do."_

A shriek escaped Sera as she nearly fell out of her rolling chair. The tall and slender form of Zer0 stood right beside her; he had been in her blind spot, for some indeterminate amount of time. He could've killed her several times over if he intended to do so. It was unnatural how silently he could approach; no wonder he had such a high bounty. Few people—with a modicum of sanity—would dare to contend with such a formidable foe.

"Holy shit, don't do that!" the startled girl scolded him, placing a hand over her chest to contain her wildly-jumping heart.

"_You're a jumpy one./ Little rabbit, hop away;/ the reflex of prey;__"_ he teased, peering down at her from behind the dark visor of his alien-like helmet.

Rolling her eyes at his taunting--and quite chilling--poetry, Sera wiped away some of the sweat that beaded on her forehead. It seemed that everyone on Helios was committed to driving her to madness.

Groaning, she slumped over and rested her cheek on the cool surface of her desk. Zer0 tilted his head slightly while he stood beside the disgruntled girl, as several question marks appeared over his head. His way of asking what was on her mind.

"If you're an assassin, then why protect me?" she asked, thinking logically, "What if the person Angel wants you to protect me from makes a counter offer? What if...they give you money to kill me? Would you?"

_"I would not accept./ Challenges are what I seek./ Have no fear of me."_

Basic translation: Seraphina was easy prey--unappealing to an apex predator such as him. He was unapologetic about his crimes, but he seemed dedicated to guarding her life with unexplained motive. So, she was inclined to feel some sort of appreciation. "Oh...thanks, I think?"

To her surprise, Zer0 placed a hand on her shoulder. It was then she realized he only had four digits on each hand; three fingers and a thumb. Whatever that implied about his biological makeup, there was something more to him than a sword for hire. Without saying a word, he pledged his loyalty to her.

"Why are you really here?" Sera asked quietly, mystified by him as she wondered what was concealed beneath that helmet.

Whether or not he intended to answer, a sudden ECHO call interrupted their conversation: "Sera, are ya listenin'?"

"Frigg?" she answered, instantly bristling at the frantic tone of the woman's voice. Upright it her chair, she touched the ECHO-comm device attached to her ear. Tension knotted up her insides as loud background noise filtered through. "Is that _gunfire_?"

"Shit's hittin' the fan! Crimson Raiders were here recruitin'. I told 'em to piss off, ya'know--but then some Hyperion grunts showed up. Now they're havin' a damn war right in the middle of town!"

"What?!" Seraphina choked.

"Mind doin' me a favor? Ask our good pal Jack to call off his Loaders. Damn grunts told 'em I was a bandit," Frigg continued, sounding disgruntled and winded from a scuffle.

Before Sera could respond, Frigg shrieked in the same moment a solid impact rumbled. It was the metallic clang and heavy thud of a machine landing close by.

"_Bandit sighted. Bandit death imminent_."

"Oh, fuck me! Sera--"

"Frigg!" was her distraught cry before the ECHO-comm went silent. Sheer denial prevented her from accepting her field contact--and friend--was just murdered by a Loader Bot.

A hand belonging to Zer0 gripped onto Seraphina's shoulder, causing her to spring onto her feet. The simple contact reigned in the panic threatening to consume her rationality, and spawned a realization. Zer0 had just become her greatest field asset.

"Zer0, we're going to Overlook," she declared, aware that he would go wherever she dared to tread.

"Affirmative," he replied, seeming eager to join the action happening on Pandora. She hadn't expected any objection.

Reckless would be putting it lightly. Fast traveling directly to Overlook would put Sera in the crossfire, but the dire situation called for drastic measures. With haste, she lead the way through the corridors of Helios as Zer0 activated his cloaking technology. Having grabbed her rakk-hide jacket on the way out, she jammed her arms through the sleeves, hoping it would offer some form of protection. Loader Bots would recognize it; at least they wouldn't identify her as a bandit.

"_Objective_?" Zer0 inquired as Sera swiped her badge through the fast-travel system, which would record her activity. It was a required function, designed to keep track of employees. Jack would be alerted soon enough; she would deal with the repercussions later.

"Save Frigg, and de-escalate the situation."

It wouldn't be her first time interrupting a battle, yet it felt different than previous operations. The absence of Henry's moral support made her feel off-kilter. Zer0 would definitely pick up the slack; she had confidence in him, but she felt unhinged.

Zer0 nodded to confirm he understood what she required of him. "_Ah. Priorities_."

In the next instant, they were both materializing in the midst of a chaotic bloodbath. Dozens of mangled corpses were strewn across the ground; both Hyperion and the Crimson Raiders were sustaining heavy casualties. Some were riddled with bullets while others were missing various limbs and internal organs. Weapons of various elemental effects were being discharged in every direction; corroding and scorching peoples' homes. The citizens of Overlook were in serious danger of becoming collateral damage. Most were still quarantined, in the recovery stages of the Skull Shivers.

A heavily armored chest collided with Sera's body, effectively knocking her off-balance. With lightning swift reflexes, the experienced assassin secured a long arm around her waist, keeping her from faceplanting in the gore-splattered dirt.

"The fuck?" a baffled rebel soldier grunted. He had been dashing across the center of town before Seraphina appeared directly in his path. Raising his assault rifle, he aimed it directly at her the moment he spotted the Hyperion logo on her vibrant yellow jacket.

Swiping the weapon from his belt, Zer0 extended his sword as the blade digistructed before her eyes. He held it as a defensive shield, while simultaneously using it to warn the Crimson Raider not to pull the trigger unless he wanted to be dismembered.

"Vault Hunter?" the Crimson Raider addressed Zer0, recognizing him for some reason. "What're you doin' with Hyperion?"

It annoyed her immensely to be brought up in discussion, as if she wasn't standing right there.

"Seraphina, Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations," she introduced herself quickly, holding her hands up to show the rebel she was unarmed and non-combatant. "Listen to me. Your troops have to pull out; this will only escalate things with Hyperion. Jack will just keep sending Loaders. Please, the people here are still recovering—you're endangering their lives!"

Scowling, the rebel seemed more inclined to shoot her than listen to a word. He eyed the silent Vault Hunter nervously; Zer0 seemed to be the only factor preventing the man from executing Sera on the spot. He despised everything Hyperion.

"You want to stop this?" the rebel asked, gesturing widely at the bloodsoaked town. His voice was gruff as he regarded her with an unstable mixture of disgust and pity. "The only way it will end is with Handsome Jack dead in the dust. You want peace, Hyperion? Kill the bastard yourself!"

Opening her mouth to protest against that awful suggestion, Sera was suddenly yanked away from the seething rebel soldier. The lean-muscled arm around her waist was joined by another as the agile Vault Hunter launched them both into the air. Spiraling sideways, Zer0 absorbed the brunt of the impact with the ground before the momentum caused them to roll across the dirt. Not a second after they hit the ground, there was a heart-stopping explosion that showered dust and shrapnel several feet in all directions.

Choking as a cloud of disturbed sand surrounded the area, Sera was aware of Zer0 crouching over her. Maintaining his hold on her waist, he was bent down onto one knee, peering over his shoulder--anticipating more incoming explosives.

"Oh god," the shaken girl choked out, noticing the indistinguishable hunk of flesh lying on the ground next to her. There were bits and pieces of organic matter scattered in the vicinity; all that remained of the man she had been speaking to, blown apart by a grenade.

Zer0 turned his head back from the ongoing battle to look down at her. Wordlessly, he lifted two fingers to wipe at something on her cheek.

"_Blood_," he offered a single-syllable explanation when her eyebrows crinkled. After close examination of her face, he concluded, "_Not yours_."

It seemed he occasionally spoke simple words or incomplete sentences, when not reciting haikus.

Struggling to hold down the bile rising in her throat, Seraphina dragged the back of her hand over her cheek, which only smeared the blood further. Witnessing violent deaths never got any easier.

Refocusing to their main objective, she instructed Zer0, "Let's just find Frigg."

It occurred to her that he just saved her life, but she could properly thank him later--preferrably when they weren't surrounded by carnage.

Aided by the helpful assassin, she rose to her feet and took cover behind the bullet-ridden wall of a building--next to several deceased Crimaon Raiders--while she attempted to contact the resolute, unofficial leader of Overlook.

"Frigg. Where are you?" she asked, broadcasting via ECHO-comm. There was no response. The woman had a fiery spirit and intelligence that rivaled those on Helios. During the past week of getting to know her, she proved herself to be resilient and nothing less than a strong fighter. It wasn't in her nature to be so easily defeated. Sera's next words were spoken in desperation, "You can't be dead; you're tougher than that..."

Once again, there was silence.

Blinking away tears, Sera hissed, "Son of a bitch!"

Everything had spiralled out of her control. There was no way to get the Hyperion soldiers to cease fire; they operated under strict orders from Handsome Jack. The Crimson Raiders sure as hell weren't inclined to lay down and die, either.

Henry would know what to do. He could conjure up plans under extremely stressful circumstances without losing his nerve. Back in Jack's office, he had jerked away as if Sera's touch burned him. It would be safe to say he hated her guts at the moment. Even so, he was the same reliable, kind-hearted man who supported her cause long before the DPR was founded.

Before Sera could connect to Henry through ECHO communications, someone else spoke. The voice seemed to thrum inside her very skull, as subliminal images of cobalt-blue eyes and a young fair-skinned, raven-haired girl invaded her subconscious.

"_Please don't freak out, Seraphina. This was meant to happen_."

"Huh...what?"

Disoriented, Sera wearily pressed a trembling hand over her filth-caked face. There was a disconcerting pins and needles sensation in her brain, as her vision blurred. _What the fuck...who the fuck?_

The female voice spoke again, light as a feather in the wind, "_You must go to Sanctuary. Trust Zer0; he will protect you_."

Before she could make sense of what was happening, a loud metallic clanking came from nearby. Shockwaves could be felt underneath her feet from the thunderous approach.

"_Bandit sighted. Detonating._"

Zer0 tensed beside Seraphina, assuming a defensive battle position. He had been guarding her the whole time, refusing to engage any soldiers unless they posed an immediate threat. The sudden approach of an attacking Loader Bot clearly excited him.

It was no ordinary Loader Bot. The yellow and black stripes indicated it was of the exploding variety.

Sera reacted poorly.

"Deactivate!" the girl shouted desperately, standing far too close to the kamikaze machine. Its red eye fixated on her, perhaps identifying her as a Hyperion employee, but it was too late to stop its self-destruction.

Confusion dominated her semi-conscious mind. The explosion hadn't even registered; one moment she was on her feet, then she was suddenly lying prone on her back. Zer0 had thrown himself on top of her. There were audible grunts of pain coming from him, as he struggled to push himself up halfway. The shielding device secured to his belt sparked and sizzled, heavily damaged.

Holding himself up with one arm, still hunched over Sera, Zer0 touched a four-fingered hand to his side. There was a gash where something sharp had shredded through his bodysuit, cutting his flesh. Dark crimson blood dripped from the cut, but not in fatal quantities.

"_A grievous wound_," he said, confusing the Hyperion diplomat.

Seraphina was about to tease him for being overly-dramatic. Then she realized he wasn't talking about himself.

Once the initial shock wore off, Sera became aware of the pain. Protruding from her abdomen was a hunk of metal, once belonging to the self-destructing Loader Bot. Zer0 had leapt in front of her, shielding her from the blast with his own body. Despite that surprisingly noble action, the projectile had grazed him and impaled her stomach.

Overwhelmed by the death and destruction--and her traumatic wound--Seraphina blacked out, with the mysterious girl's ominous words floating in her fading consciousness.

_Don't freak out...__This was meant to happen..._


	6. Chapter Five:

"_Sanctuary; the stronghold of the resistance. Congratulations, you're the first Hyperion to set foot in the city without being used for target practice. Roland will be eager to meet with you. Try to make a good impression, Ambassador Seraphina_."

That mild-mannered, disembodied voice passed on some useful advice. Meanwhile, Sera was preoccupied with preventing her intestines from spilling out. The hunk of metal from the exploding Loader remained lodged in her abdomen. Drenched in blood, the outfit she had invested so much time piecing together that morning was ruined.

Fast-travel surely didn't help the nausea; her organs were more than a little distressed. Cradled in the arms of the Vault Hunter hired to guard her life, there was nothing she could do but place all of her trust in Zer0. So far, he had established not only his prowess on the battlefield but the genuine dedication he had to keep her alive.

Reliving the erroneous move on her part to approach an active Exploding Loader Bot, it blew her mind—no pun intended—how swiftly Zer0 had been able to react. Somehow he managed to leap between her and the Loader Bot; while his shield absorbed the blast, it was destroyed and unable to deflect the shrapnel.

Luckily the assassin was as quick-witted as he was quick with his sword. He took initiative to inject some Insta-Health serum into her system. A mortal wound like hers required more serum to heal completely, but Overlook's portable clinic vending machine was disintegrated by acidic rounds and stray bullets. The small vial was enough to stop the heavy bleeding, but the foreign object was still embedded in Sera's body. There was no removing it by brute force alone; that kind of surgery required a controlled environment and medical training, none of which could be found amidst the battle going on in Overlook.

Zer0 wasted no time in hoisting her off the ground and making a run for the nearest Fast-travel station, which brought them directly to the center of the city no mentally-sound Hyperion would venture.

"The fuck is this?" one of the scruffy residents questioned, his disdain unconcealed. Numerous other rebels were watching with disapproval, as a dying Hyperion was carried through their streets. Droplets of her blood mingled with the other accumulated filth. _Funny, _Sera thought. To them, the blood of their enemies contaminated their safe haven, despite its grimy, deteriorated condition prior to her arrival.

Ignoring the reproachful remarks of the outlaws and misfits, Zer0 focused on his task of delivering Seraphina to the nearest medical practitioner. He navigated the city streets with ease, which meant he frequented Sanctuary. But of course he did; that misfortunate solider addressed him with familiarity.

In less than a minute since materializing in the city, Sera was carried through the doorway of Dr. Zed's 24/7 Clinic.

The middle-aged man was rather infamous around Helios. He had taken a stand against Hyperion during Jack's conquest of Pandora, refusing to vacate Fyrestone despite being the only resident. At least, until Jack dispatched his heavily-armed forces to overtake the place. The good doctor likely figured he wouldn't be much use to anyone full of holes. Aside from that act of defiance, Zed received more than his fair-share of criticism. Aiding rebels made him an enemy of Hyperion, for one. Losing his medical license certainly never stopped him from continuing his medical practices—so there was that. Personally, Sera had mixed feelings about his...well, _illegal_ operations.

Regardless, he was the only person who could save her from disembowelment.

Hunched over another patient, the man had his attention fully invested in some kind of surgical procedure. The body of the person was immobile, while the good doctor was wrist-deep in their chest cavity.

"_Doctor, we require/ your services; a grievous/ wound needs attention._"

Previously unaware that he had an audience, Zed visibly tensed as he became defensive. He tilted his head to peer cautiously over his shoulder, and seemed to relax when he recognized the assassin. It was safe to assume he wasn't exactly conducting an operation beneficial to the health of his patient. The person lying on the table was most certainly dead.

"That doesn't look good," Zed surmised, upon observing the metal protruding from her guts. There was a sickening, wet sound as he pried his hands free of the dead man's rib cage. An unceremonious shove from the doctor cleared the operating table. There was a heavy thud as the corpse toppled over onto the floor. The revolting sound of fluids sloshing over linoleum caused Sera to be sick. Bile spewed from her mouth, but she managed to tilt her head, so as to avoid vomiting on herself and her valiant savior.

Spitting the foul taste out of her mouth, she groaned and allowed her head to rest on Zer0's shoulder. He was unfazed by the fact she had gotten sick; he had surely seen—and been covered in—worse. Zed merely observed from a short distance, furrowing his dark brows while he studied her face. If he recognized her somehow, he didn't announce it.

"Let's have a look then," the doctor recommended in a gruff manner. With a stern gesture, he directed Zer0 to place the half-dead girl on the operating table.

Digging her blood-coated fingers into the leathery, protective fabric of his suit, Sera clung onto the assassin. She was less than enthused about lying on the same surface where a dead person just was.

Talk about unsanitary; there was no ignoring how the doctor seemed to disregard standard sanitation protocols. A simple glance around the clinic stood as evidence that the man hardly mopped. Who knew if he bothered keeping surfaces and utensils sterile?

"Zer0, listen, I...need to get...back to Helios," she successfully forced out the words. The blood loss made it increasingly difficult to form coherent thoughts. It was a futile effort; she knew it was irrational to waste any more time with traveling. Besides, the assassin-turned-bodyguard had his reasons for bringing her to Sanctuary.

Face concealed behind the dark visor of his helmet, there was no way to determine whether or not he considered her wishes.

"No time for that, girl," Zed interjected bluntly, before the assassin could respond. Removing the sullied gloves, he replaced them with a fresh pair; at least he had the decency to do that. "Besides, I patched up these Vault Hunters more than they'd like to admit. Ain't that right, son?"

"_Desperation breeds/ rash decisions; I admit / Zed has odd methods_," Zer0 said, validating the reservations Sera had, without completely disagreeing with the unlicensed doctor.

Furrowing his thick black eyebrows, Zed squinted at the assassin for a moment. "What he meant to say was, I can keep your insides...well, _inside_," he amended, glossing over whatever implications there were to the contrary. "So how 'bout it?"

Clutching the inflamed flesh of her abdomen to hold her organs in, Sera was in no position to refuse medical attention. Zer0 smoothly stepped over to the operating table, allowing the girl time to brace herself before easing her onto its surface. He remained loyally beside her, having no intent on leaving her in the hands of another without supervision.

Standing on the opposite side, Zed ritualistically pushed up his sleeves in preparation.

"Exploding Loader, eh?" he observed, recognizing the yellow and black stripes on the singed hunk of metal. Snatching up a pair of scissors, he pinched the fabric of hee blouse at the hem. Lifting the soiled clothing away from her body, he sliced upward to stop just above her navel.

The slight disturbance of the fabric agitated her flesh; the pain was intense.

Tears spilled from the corners of ger eyes of their own volition, and she clenched her teeth. It was unfathomable to her that she was even conscious. Miserably, she wondered if it was too much to ask for some booze, or perhaps blunt force trauma to the head.

Proceeding with his task, Zed was more careful as he cut away more fabric until her abdomen was exposed. While he had a look of concentration, his brows raised slightly at the sight.

"Well that explains why you haven't bled to death. The metal was so hot, it cauterized the wound," the doctor explained, seeming fascinated as he peered in for a closer look. Surely the health serum Zer0 administered helped, but the blackened flesh around the embedded metal evidenced the doctor's theory.

"Consider yourself lucky, girl..."

"Just...get it...the fuck out of me!" Sera hissed, lacking the patience to entertain his morbid infatuation with anatomy.

"Not so fast. That'll cause hemorrhaging. And I'm not lyin' to you, it's gonna hurt like a son of a bitch," he cautioned, ghosting his hands over the wound as he pondered how to go about removing the object from a living patient. Reaching over to the tray set up nearby, he grabbed a scalpel; thankfully, it appeared to be sterile. Bringing one hand to place gently on her ribs, Zed instructed her companion gruffly, "Hold 'er down."

Those words caused her muscles to tense up; what was about to happen would be severely unpleasant, to say the least. A four-fingered hand planted down over her sternum, while another ghosted over her brow and smoothed the hair back from her forehead. Lifting her eyes to peer into the dark visor concealing his face, Sera was unable to utter a single word.

Emotions swelled in her chest, so intense it felt as if she would drown in them. An inescapable reality had quite literally slugged her in the gut; without her, the Department of Pandoran Relations would crumble. And that wasn't her being egotistical, it was politically accurate. Losing its founder only a year after its birth would be a devastating blow to the department. Henry—despite his irrefutable genius—could never shoulder that much responsibility alone. Upon her and the department's demise, there would be nobody left to maintain peace.

Warmongers like Handsome Jack would be left unchecked. Reformed bandit groups would lose incentive to obey Hyperion and revert to their savage ways.

The bloodbath in Overlook was only a preview of what would transpire in Seraphina's absence.

"Alright, girl, let's get this out now," was the only warning the doctor gave, before going to town with his scalpel.

There was no feeling in the blackened flesh that he sliced, but the connecting tissue protested the movement. A constant burning sensation made it impossible for her mind to wander. Squirming involuntarily, she was held down by the assassin, who was much stronger than he looked. Clenching her jaw to the point where she worried about breaking teeth, she was finally able to unclench when the bloody scalpel clattered back onto the tray beside Zed.

"That was the easy part," the doctor muttered. Rolling his bulky shoulders, he proceeded to crack his knuckles and flexed his thick fingers. Lifting both hands to encircle them around the edges of the metal, he ordered, "Zer0, make sure she doesn't go rolling over. Don't want anything to spill out."

"What?" she cried, feeling more bile rising from her battered stomach while her eyesight blurred.

There was no further warning. Gripping the hunk of metal on both sides, Zed yanked it free in the same manner he might remove a band-aid. There was no way to contain her shriek of agony; removing the metal was ironically more painful than the moment she was initially impaled. Zer0's hands gripped her shoulders firmly as he leaned over her, using his weight to keep her pinned to the operating table. His helmet blocked her view of the gaping wound in her abdomen, which was probably intentional on his part.

Blacking out, she was blissfully unaware until a hand gripped her chin. The fingers were the texture of rubber, covered in a viscous substance. It took Sera a moment to realize the hand belonged to Dr. Zed, who was attempting to communicate with her, but in her condition, it was difficult to understand his words.

Hardly able to focus her vision, she glanced from Zer0's black helmet to the partially masked face of the doctor. He was peering down at her with concern; his eyes were dark, but there was some compassion there despite the rumors that argued to the contrary. The man genuinely wanted to keep her alive.

"Get 'er mouth open," he said, one of the few things she was able to decipher. Zed placed one hand on her shoulder, while holding out a bottle for the assassin to take. While the doctor held her down onto the operating table, Zer0 accepted the responsibility placed upon him.

Rather than prying her mouth open to force-feed ger the contents of the bottle, Zer0 slipped a hand underneath to cradle her head.

"_A tonic; Zed's brew;/a healing concoction. / Drink it and survive;_" he explained, placing the bottle gently against her chapped, bluish lips. Conscious enough to know better than to refuse, she managed to swallow as the assassin carefully poured the liquid contents into her mouth.

The flavor was tolerable enough that she could gulp it down without gagging. Its healing effects were immediate, as the intense burning dulled to a minor ache. It no longer felt like her intestines were going to spill out. The sensation was more like the aftermath of being punched really hard in the stomach; not pleasant in any way, but bearable.

Running boths hands over her stomach, she marveled at how quickly the fatal wound healed--Zed's mysterious tonic was superior to the Insta-Health serum.

Panting heavily, she remained flat on back for a moment to fully process what just happened. Zed, on the other hand, had no concept of tact.

"Hard to believe this was just inside ya, huh?" he teased, turning the cursed object in his hands, regarding it like some long lost relic he unearthed. "Mind if I keep it? If it ain't too much trouble, can ya sign it for me? Believe it or not, you're somewhat of a celebrity 'round Pandora. Handsome Jack's got some competition!"

To say she was appalled wasn't the half of it. Mouth open, Sera was unsure whether to tell him off or inquire about her celebrity status on Pandora.

"Zed, leave Sera be, 'fore I shove that thing right up yer ass!"

There was no misidentifying that voice.

Frigg had acquired several cuts and bruises during the chaos. Patches of her short copper hair had been singed off. Her green lipstick was smudged across her cheek, along with dirt and traces of crimson where she had wiped blood from her split lip. Something Sera learned about her recently; she rejected the use of advanced healing serums, preferring to "tough it out" as she succinctly put it. Her signature orange goggles were secured to her face as she stood in the doorway, reminding Sera of the first time they crossed paths.

Frigg was her greatest ally and one of the few people in the Six Galaxies she could trust not to betray her for money, or political gain.

"Frigg!" Sera exclaimed, relieved to see the woman whom she feared to be dead. Aside from the filth and minor abrasions, the woman otherwise appeared to be in one piece. Pushing herself off the operating table, Sera was eager to greet her properly, but the muscles in her legs had been replaced with gelatin.

Staggering like a newly hatched spiderant, she nearly face-planted on the floor, which probably hadn't been scrubbed months.

Reliable as usual, Zer0 caught her waist for the second time in the past hour. He held her steady while she regained her balance. Coolly, he advised, "_Caution_."

"Right," Sera huffed out, pressing a hand to her clammy forehead. Perspiration and filth covered her face, along with smudges of blood; every inch of her body could use a long soak in cleansing, hot water. "You can let go, I'm fine," she assured the assassin-turned-bodyguard, who seemed to hover more closely than he had in Overlook. Perhaps he was concerned about her being snagged by one of the less friendly inhabitants of Sanctuary; someone not obligated to resist the urge to slit her throat.

Zer0 wasn't the only person in the room whose behavior troubled Sera. During the brief exchange between her and the Vault Hunter, Frigg remained at a distance with her arms folded. Her goggles shielded her eyes, which made it difficult to tell what she was thinking. There was something standoffish about her posture, as she hadn't moved a muscle to approach or otherwise embrace Sera.

Frowning, the misfit Hyperion girl tentatively placed a foot forward but restrained herself, deciding to give Frigg the space she wanted.

"What is it, Frigg?" she ventured. Despite her tendency to be abrasive and aloof at times, Frigg wasn't allergic to showing affection. She hadn't done anything to offend or push her away; there was something eating at her conscience.

There was a tangible awkwardness as it became evident that everyone in the room knew something Sera didn't.

Clearing his throat, Zed seemed uncomfortable. Setting the singed, blood-stained hunk of metal down, he excused himself to the back where he proceeded to wash his hands, allowing them to have a more private discussion.

"Soon as I heard some Hyperion was brought here, bleedin' all over, I came runnin' to see for myself," Frigg began, her voice somewhat strained. Heaving a sigh, she shook free of the invisible chains holding her back and finally crossed the room to stand in front of her. "Sera, I didn't ask for you to put yourself in harm's way like that."

Being chastised for reckless behavior was nothing new for Seraphina. Henry often lectured her about how such actions could put the entire department in jeopardy. He and Frigg were both right, of course, but there was no way her conscience would've allowed her to sit idly by while people were being slaughtered senselessly.

"You should've called Henry, then," Sera fired back, regretting how unkind it sounded immediately. Softening her voice, she amended, "I had to be there, Frigg. You know that."

The vibrant orange hue of her goggles repelled any attempts to read her emotions; she had yet to remove them, which caused Sera to suspect she wanted to hide something. Regardless of her secrecy, she held no hostilities. Sighing, she responded quietly, "Yeah, I know you did, Sera."

While there were many unanswered questions that required investigation, Sera was currently more concerned about what happened to Frigg when the ECHO communication cut off. "So that Loader Bot that attacked you," she prompted, "How did you get out of that one?"

"Have a look," she responded with a bitter laugh, yanking the sleeve of her right arm up to reveal the damage. Her forearm was no longer flesh and bone; it had been replaced by a robotic limb. The mechanics of the arm were designed to resemble bones and ligaments, while there was an armored plate on the top of the hand; spikes adorned the knuckles over the metal fingers. The augmented arm was painted black with muted-green accents, but the symbol on the hand was what captured Sera's attention.

Painted on the metallic surface was the symbol of the Crimson Raiders' resistance.

There was no conceivable reason her most trusted ally on the entire surface of Pandora would betray the confidence Sera had in her. Frigg knew throwing in with the rebels would only cause more unrest. Sera wanted to let her explain herself before jumping to conclusions, but she knew the crime of displaying the symbol was punishable by death. How could she risk being identified as a rebel?

Reaching up to remove her goggles, Frigg briefly lowered her eyes, unprepared to explain herself so soon.

"I know what you're thinkin', Sera. Trust me, I wasn't plannin' on this," she said, attempting to ease her into it.

Whatever her reasons, Sera couldn't ignore the dreadful feeling in her stomach, and it wasn't just the after effects of being impaled. Shaking her head, she implored, "Frigg, come back to Helios with me," gingerly placing a hand on her shoulder, she continued reasonably, "I can pull some strings for you. Get you a better cybernetic--"

"You don't get it!" she snapped out of frustration, causing Sera to fall silent. When the Hyperion girl blinked rapidly in response to her outburst, Frigg heaved a sigh and smoothed the singed hair on her head with the cybernetic arm gifted to her by the rebels. "Look, I'll tell ya what happened. A couple Raiders brought me here, shortly after we lost contact...One of those damn Loaders got a hold of me. Nearly tore my arm off when it threw me damn near halfway 'cross Pandora! Go figure, I'm out of the crossfire, but land right into a nest of pissed off Stalkers. Those bastards would'a had me for lunch, if the Raiders hadn't shot 'em all to hell."

Hearing what she experienced definitely provided a better understanding of why she would throw in with the rebels. Still...

"Next thing I knew,thiscrazy son of a bitch was hackin' off what was left of my arm!" Frigg continued, jabbing a thumb in the doctor's direction. The man finished washing his hands and had since tasked himself with mopping up the gore left behind from his other patient.

"Still breathin', ain't ya?" Zed countered with a grunt, resenting the implication that his methods were unsavory.

Promptly flipping him the bird, Frigg conveyed just how grateful she was about having her arm amputated so hastily. Rolling her eyes, she shared a sympathetic look with Sera, knowing she had just as much fun during her own emergency operation.

"Makes sense, I guess," Sera muttered quietly, folding her arms with an exasperated sigh. "You think you owe them."

Scoffing, Frigg regarded her in a similar manner to when they first met; their friendship hadn't changed how she felt about Hyperion.

"There's more to it than _that_, and you know it," she amended, her eyes electrified like storm clouds, "There I was, back at the 'Oly Spirits pub, tryin' to give the Raiders the boot. Like I told you over the ECHO, they were recruitin', but that was it. Then Hyperion shows up and everything goes tits up, ass over elbow!"

Resentment toward Hyperion was essentially part of Pandoran culture, but Seraphina could hear in her voice--something had been ignited within Frigg. It saddened her to see the woman following such a dangerous path. People referred to Sera as an ambassador; while it wasn't an official title, it was her duty to fulfill that role. Diplomacy was something she excelled in, but there were some people who could never be persuaded. Sera hoped Frigg would rethink her rash decision, before it was too late to avoid retaliation.

"Believe me, as soon as I get back to Helios I'll consult with Henry about the incident in Overlook," Sera assured her, while the disgruntled woman averted her eyes. "Survivors will be relocated to a safer environment. We can still uphold our promise, to help everyone afflicted with Skull Shivers make full recoveries."

There was no strong reaction from the fatigued woman. She merely took a step backwards, out of Sera's reach, standing with her arms folded. Her grey eyes leveled at the girl with resignation; steel doors locking down a fortress, prepared for war.

"Play both sides, if that's what makes ya feel important," Frigg replied in a listless tone, "I gave peace a chance, Sera. Look how good ol' Jack rewarded me for it."

Rejection wasn't a foreign concept to Seraphina; neither was failure. The feeling that pierced her heart was some monstrous hybrid of the two, as she felt the binds of their alliance being severed. Instinct compelled her to cling to what kinship they had left, but dignity demanded that she accept their differences. The woman had her reasons for joining the Crimson Raiders; Sera had to respect that.

Lowering her eyes in humility, Sera nodded to show that she wouldn't press the matter any further.

Without anything else left to be said, Frigg turned to depart the clinic.

"Oh, yeah. Almost forgot to tell ya," she blurted out, pausing in the doorway to speak over her shoulder, "Roland wants to have a chat with ya, before ya report back to Jack. Don't miss the chance; he won't be around long."

Roland will be eager to meet with you. Try to make a good impression...

That disembodied voice mentioned the leader of the Crimson Raiders when Sera arrived in Sanctuary. Putting two and two together, she realized exactly whom the voice belonged to.

While she was distracted by her thoughts, Frigg slipped out into the streets of Sanctuary; perhaps she was off to receive her first orders as a member of the resistance. Being inducted into the Crimson Raiders would surely include carrying out special tasks for those in command.

A familiar hand gripped her shoulder, pulling Sera's attention to Zer0. He had stood back, quietly observing the exchange between her and Frigg. While he outwardly appeared as stoic as any masked assassin would, Sera knew him well enough to believe he wasn't unfeeling, or emotionless--there was something he wished to get off his chest.

"Zer0, tell me the truth," she prodded lightly, unable to be angry with the one who saved her life twice, "Did Angel tell you to bring me here?"

The assassin remained silent for a moment, perhaps formulating the best way to explain without overwhelming her already exhausted mind: "My intent was not/ deception; Overlook was/ unplanned. Believe me."

Please don't freak out. This was supposed to happen.That was what Angel told her, when the Crimson Raiders and Hyperion soldiers were engaging in one of the bloodiest battles she had ever witnessed. Earlier in her office, Zer0 informed that the artificial intelligence had somehow contacted and instructed him to guard Sera's life. What could possibly motivate Angel to do something like that? She couldn't have been commanded by Handsome Jack. He would sooner tongue-kiss a Claptrap than hire a Vault Hunter to be anyone's bodyguard.

Angel must've acted autonomously. Which begged the question: what compelled her to defy Jack by employing one of his sworn enemies to protectSeraphina, the Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations? None of these mysteries would be solved, unless she played along with whatever scheme Angel was orchestrating. Meeting with Roland was the first step in the right direction.

"Do me a favor, Zer0," she requested, adjusting her partially-singed, blood-spattered rakk-hide jacket.

"Yes."

His automatic response amused her. The assassin would do whatever Sera required of him, but she wanted to treat him as an equal rather than a servant. Determined to uncover the truth behind the events that lead her there, Sera humbly suggested, "Show me where I can find Roland."


	7. Chapter Six:

Confronting the leader of the Crimson Raiders, without explicit authorization from Handsome Jack, was a direct violation of protocol. Fraternizing with the enemies of Hyperion was, by all accounts, treason. Being the Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations, it was in Seraphina's job description to act as the mediator in all disputes between Hyperion and those inhabiting the planet. That granted her diplomatic immunity. Of course, she wasn't exempt from the wrath of a certain, devilishly-handsome dictator with deep-rooted trust issues.

Keeping in mind that she narrowly escaped death numerous times in the last hour, she followed the honor-bound assassin toward the headquarters of the resistance.

Tucked in an alley behind the epicenter of the city, the building was guarded by two well-armed individuals. One stood upright with his muscular arms folded, gun holstered as he dutifully watched over the streets. Meanwhile, his slim counterpart lounged at the foot of the steps, fiddling with her rifle; its blue glow and shining silver finish suggested it was a powerful, electrically-charged, rare-quality weapon. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until Seraphina recognized the woman.

_Well, __this is gonna get ugly.._.

An interplanetary bounty-hunter, the twenty-something year old woman had ripped apart entire bandit clans searching for wanted criminals. Her name was Rian, which could very well be an alias. She and her twin brother, Gunner, arrived on Pandora shortly after Handsome Jack decimated the population of New Haven. With the planet overrun with bandits, the siblings seized the opportunity to make Pandora their new hunting grounds. Handsome Jack tolerated their presence, on the condition that they wiped out bandit clans.

Ten months ago, Sera had the misfortune to encounter the bloodthirsty siblings during her early campaigning out in The Dust.

Mid-stride, the disheveled Hyperion girl halted, resisting the urge to take cover behind the nearest waste bin. A mere step ahead, Zer0 noticed her hesitation and slightly pivoted on his heel. He turned half-way around so as to keep her and the objective destination in sight. Cocking his head to the side, a question mark displayed over his helmet, conveying puzzlement.

"Well, look what the skag shat out," came the vindictive taunt; Rian recognized Sera immediately, causing her guts coil into ominous knots. Drawing her pouty, pink-glossed lips back into a sneer, she lifted her rifle to casually line up the cross-hairs with Sera's forehead.

Instantaneously, the vigilant assassin removed the sword from his belt and positioned himself as a protective barrier between Sera and the sniper. There was a crackling sound as Zer0 deflected the bullet with the blade of his sword, which absorbed the electric current. With his shield destroyed, there was nothing to protect him from the elemental effect. A low growl came from within his helmet; he endured the pain of the charge with unwavering discipline.

Not quite recovered from the traumatic experience moments earlier, Sera was unable to react or move a single muscle. Someone just attempted to murder her in cold blood, and she hadn't been in Sanctuary longer than fifteen minutes.

While Seraphina remained frozen in place, Zer0 moved to retaliate against the woman who nearly sent her to an early grave. Simultaneously, the Crimson Raider stationed nearby lunged to wrestle the rifle from Rian. He received a ruthless punch directly to the throat, rendering him pretty much useless as he staggered away, choking. Rather than aiming to fire another shot, Rian spun the rifle using the strap, allowing it to hang behind her back.

Pausing when she disarmed herself, Zer0 watched her closely, ready for anything.

Promptly resuming her place at the bottom of the steps, she grinned with wicked amusement; wreaking havoc was her favorite pass-time. The cotton-candy hue of her pixie-cut hair, and her pretty face, misled countless unsuspecting men straight to a shallow grave. Rian was the type who delighted in toying with her prey; poor Henry had the scars to prove it.

"New boyfriend?" she inquired, briefly making eye contact with Sera before regarding the assassin with keen interest, biting her lip in a not-so-subtle display of attraction. "Got sick of tall, dark and nerdy, huh? Can't say I blame you. _This_ one's an upgrade, if you ask me."

Her insulting Sera's best friend, and coming onto her bodyguard, snapped her out of the trauma-induced stupor. More than a little offended, she scowled. At the moment, she had no tolerance for the likes of an honorless bounty hunter with a cruel streak.

"No one asked you, Rian. Henry wasn't--isn't--my boyfriend, and neither is Zer0," she clarified, if only to spite the wench. Noting how the assassin refused to step aside, prepared to deflect any further attacks, Sera reached up to place a hand on his shoulder. Whether or not it comforted him, there was no way to tell.

Leveling a cold stare at Rian, Sera decided to divulge the information, "He's escorting me to see Roland. What business do you and Gunner have in Sanctuary? I assume he's lurking around somewhere."

Entertained by the fact she had gotten under the girl's skin, Rian cackled to herself.

"You're such a tight ass!" she teased, observing the tension in Sera's posture. "Quit hiding behind your boy toy, Sera. I knew the Vault Hunter would take a bullet for you. Think I want a bounty on _my_ head? Pissing off Handsome Jack is _not_ on my list of things to do today."

Her words made sense, logically; none of it changed the resentment Sera felt towards her. All the same, she boldly emerged from behind Zer0. He must've taken a vow of silence sometime during the excitement, because he hadn't uttered a single haiku to express whatever was going on in his head.

Ghosting her footsteps, he ensured no one would catch Sera in the back while she cautiously approached the steps of the Crimson Raiders' headquarters. The guard--who had recovered from the blow to his bronchial tube--leaned against the wall, looking displeased with life in general. It was safe to assume he was humiliated by the fact he was so easily beaten into submission. Sera felt bad for the poor guy.

"You didn't answer my question," Sera reminded Rian, standing at the foot of the steps slightly out of her reach. Being so close to her made Sera's heart pound harder than normal, but she clung to her dignity.

Lips curling into a smirk, Riam leaned back on her elbows and peered up at Sera with her head cocked to the side. Her eyes were gleaming in a way that made the younger girl nervous.

"Roland invited us."

That was perplexing. "Why?" Sera prodded further, placing her hands on her hips.

"Don't know. Don't care," Rian dead-panned, before shoving herself upright. The woman had at least seven inches over Sera, forcing her to tilt her head back just to meet her devious hazel eyes. They were harsh and unsympathetic, digging up memories that were better left buried in the dark recesses of her mind.

"My brother's the sentimental one. Remember? Be sure to thank him for convincing me not to blow your head off back in The Dust."

Unlike his name suggested, Gunner was the least homicidal of the two. Something Sera would never be able to forget...

A four-fingered hand seemed to materialize out of nowhere, gripping her shoulder firmly. Both Sera and Rian looked to Zer0, who had been watching and listening to the exchange in silence until that point. He must've disliked the way the imposing bounty hunter invaded Sera's personal space.

"It's fine. I'm fine," Sera told him, briefly glancing in his direction. Relieved when Rian backed off, she was able to breathe normally. With a self-satisfied chuckle, the bounty hunter turned on her heel and began to walk off.

"I'm over it," she scoffed, waving her hand dismissively while she strutted on long, defined legs. "Tell Gunner I'll be at the bar," pausing to flash a deadly smile, the bounty hunter added, "Catch you later, Sera."

There were many unfriendly things Sera could shout back at her, but none of them were worth a bullet.

Once Rian disappeared around the corner, Zer0 returned his sword to his hip and relaxed, sensing the danger had gone. Peering down at his vulnerable friend, he inquired in his oddly-distorted voice, "_Who was that woman?_"

"Long story..." Sera muttered, feeling thoroughly demeaned after the unpleasant reunion. Running a hand through her tangled mess of dark brown hair, caked with traces of blood and dirt, she found herself fantasizing about a soothing, hot shower again.

"_Should I eliminate her?_" The question reminded Sera that he specialized in cold-blooded murder.

"No!" was her automatic response, appalled by the question. Inhaling deeply, the girl sighed and answered more calmly, "I mean...No, thank you. That's not how I handle my problems, Zer0."

Assessing her words, the assassin nodded appreciatively. "_I can respect that_."

Smirking at that, Sera shook her head. Whoever he was beneath that helmet of his, she was grateful for his dependable companionship.

Warm and fuzzy feelings aside, she was apprehensive about meeting with Roland.

The presence of two of Pandora's most ruthless bounty hunters created a sense of foreboding. What could Roland possibly want from them, other than bribing them to join the resistance against Hyperion as mercenaries? Perhaps that was exactly what he hoped to accomplish, after sustaining such heavy losses.

Jack had an entire army at his disposal. A small group of insurgents could easily be anhiliated, once Sancurary's defenses were down. Sera could hardly blame the Commander of the Crimson Raiders for being desperate. Still, hiring mercenaries for a cause dedicated to freedom-fighting just seemed dishonorable.

What if that was the reason behind Angel employing Zer0 to be her bodyguard-slash-escort? She wanted Seraphina to intervene somehow. Rian and Gunner would definitely be labeled as traitors, at best. If Jack ever caught wind about them considering to fight against Hyperior forces, they would be executed in the most painful ways fathomable. The real mystery was: what couldSerado that would be more effective than Angel simply tipping Jack off directly so he could eliminate the threat?

The crafty artificial intelligence had some agenda of her own. Seraphina was dying to know what that entailed.

Hanging around outside the building wouldn't produce any results. Breathing in deeply, her controlled exhale released all the worries and woes clouding her mind. Ascending the stairs to the door, she stepped back into the role of an experienced ambassador, intent on smoothing over conflict.

Slipping lithely ahead of her, Zer0 opened the door; he was the most polite killer she ever met.

Inside, there were a few beds and lockers off to the left; to the right was a desk that might have been a reception area, but there was nobody there to greet visitors. Toward the back was an area where clothing could be washed and dried; unfortunately, she had no time to take advantage.

Zer0 strolled on ahead, leading the way up the concrete stairs. Sera followed, fidgeting with her singed blouse. The charcoal grey fabric was caked with dried blood, and slashed open to expose her stomach, where a newly-acquired scar was visible. As for her signature yellow rakk-hide jacket, it was also spattered with blood and covered in dirt. Fortunately, things on Pandora were different than Helios. Nobody gave a damn about appearances. So long as one didn't pull a gun on them, or steal their belongings.

Once Sera cleared the steps, she overheard two men speaking in hushed, strained tones; both were angry but trying to remain civil, or at least avoid attracting eavesdroppers. Pausing in the adjacent room, which doubled as a lounging area and storage vault, Zer0 extended his arm to block her from advancing further. The tension in the atmosphere was palpable.

Rolling her eyes at the over-protective nature of the assassin, she lightly grasped and lowered his arm because it obscured her view.

Two men stood hunched over a table opposite each other, in a heated discussion. Easily recognizable by his faded blue grenadier cap and dark skin, Roland sported a stern frown and severely-knotted brow; whatever words being exchanged, none pleased him.

The other man returned Roland's intense stare with one of his own, though he seemed less upset. In his late twenties, the younger man was just as tall if only slightly leaner in muscle mass than the Commander. Bronze stubble lined his jaw and wavy dark blonde hair flowed close to his highly-defined shoulders. A faded black cowboy hat was placed on the table in front of him; the thing was charred and torn, but he never parted with it. Twin pistols were holstered at his belt; one emitted the mystifying blue glow of electricity, and the other fiery orange. Gunner wasn't as prone to senseless violence as his twin sister, but they shared plenty of common traits that made him dangerous.

The Commander and bounty hunter had yet to realize their conversation was no longer private.

"I know you're afraid of Jack," Roland spoke quietly, his tone sympathetic, "You'd be an idiot if you weren't. I can't ask you to endanger your life for the cause, but I _can_ ask you this: What do you think happens if Jack wins? No more bandits. No more Crimson Raiders. Make no mistake, old friend. Jack will eliminateeveryonewho poses a threat to his empire. That means you, and Rian."

Momentarily bowing his head, braced against the table, Gunner seemed to accept the truth of those words. The pensive and vulnerable expression on his face reminded Sera of the incident back in The Dust. His better judgement rivaled with the expectations of his twin sister, who fostered no compassion for anyone... perhaps not even him. Whether or not Roland's words resonated in his mind, Gunner drew back from the table and squared his hulking shoulders.

"Save it, Roland. You might'a convinced those weak-minded drones out there to sacrifice themselves," Gunner said, gesturing toward the balcony overlooking the city street where Raiders patrolled and loitered. Planting a hand on his broad chest, the bounty hunter continued, "But I'm not dyin' for a lost cause. You should haul ass off this ugly rock while you've got the chance. Jack won't follow you. You know that, but you're too goddamn stubborn to cut your losses."

Pausing as a grimly-composed Roland straightened his back, Gunner shook his head in disgust. His next words were scathing, "How many of your friends need'ta die screamin', before you swallow your pride?"

Roland, who had taken the verbal thrashing without flinching, turned his head to avert his eyes then. His arms seemed to hang limp by his sides; no rage boiled beneath the surface, but guilt was evident as he made no attempt to defend himself.

Unimpressed, Gunner folded his arms and gave him one last disapproving once-over. Having said his piece, the bounty hunter finished, "Consider us even. Rian and I could be shot just for acceptin' your little invitation. This is goodbye, Roland. Don't call us again; we won't answer."

Retrieving the battle-worn cowboy hat, Gunner firmly placed it atop his head. Tipping the blackened, threadbare brim in a gesture of farewell, he prepared to see himself out.

Panic jolted Sera's pulse into a frantic beat the instant Gunner turned in her direction. While she knew he wouldn't shoot on sight, it would be foolish not to consider him a threat. He had a lot to lose if any Hyperion employee caught him in Sanctuary.

Gunner bristled and widened his eyes at the sight of Sera, and her far more intimidating companion. Shock quickly wore off once he recognized her, and his lips quirked into a smile. He approached, causing Zer0 to extend his hand outwards; a signal for him to halt, or suffer the consequences. The bounty hunter raised an eyebrow but decided to stop short of them, his hostile mood having shifted to mild amusement.

"Funny runnin' into you here, darlin'," Gunner greeted respectfully, the polar opposite of his sister when it came to pleasant social interaction. Reaching up to casually scratch at the stubble on his chin, he ventured, "Reckon you heard all that just now?"

"I heard enough," Sera responded, crossing her arms while taking a step closer to him. Zer0 lingered slightly behind, keeping a watchful eye over the situation. Meeting the hazel eyes that were infinitely less terrifying than Rian's predatory stare, she explained, "I'm here on official business. As long as you don't interfere, there's no reason to mention your name in my report."

Smiling appreciatively, Gunner picked up the implication his meeting with Roland would be kept secret on her part.

"Well, allow me to get out'a your way, then," he smiled, stepping aside and waving Sera on graciously. Before she could take a step, he raised a finger, imploring her to hold on a moment longer.

"You didn't happen to see where my sister's gone and run off to, have you?"

"She mentioned the bar," Sera replied, seeing no reason to withhold the information.

Gunner sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Goddamn, I can't take that woman anywhere," he groaned, as Sera bit back a smirk. When he dropped his hand, he curiously scrutinized the silent assassin who had become the girl's shadow.

"Your friend there don't say much, does he?" he commented, more amused than unnerved.

"Not unless he has something to say," Sera answered; Zer0 merely folded his arms, allowing her to do the talking.

"I see. The silent type," Gunner chuckled, eyeing him with keen interest before returning his gaze to Sera. "Well, your discretion's much appreciated, Sera. Take care now, darlin'."

With a respectful nod of farewell to Zer0, Gunner shuffled past them both and descended the steps, off to hunt down his trouble making twin.

Having post-poned inevitable confrontation with Roland long enough, Sera looked to Zer0 for moral support. With an encouraging nod from the assassin, she proceeded into the next room where Roland had isolated himself since his conversation with Gunner ended. Braced over the edge of the balcony, he beheld the cramped and crowded city beyond. Aware he had company, the Commander shifted on his feet to face them. The haunted fog over his eyes was quickly replaced by a warm smile and his expression softened into what might be called admiration.

"I knew you'd show up, sooner or later," he stated, sounding almost relieved. "Where are my manners. Sorry," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before pulling himself away from the balcony. He strolled closer and extended his hand; Sera privately marveled at how, well, large he was up close. The posters plastered across Pandora--and the wild stories told by the locals--all painted an unrealistic image of him. It was humbling to meet the man behind the face of the resistance; much like Handsome Jack, he was just a man with an enormous, almost godlike reputation to live up to.

Accepting his hand, Sera shook politely while his grip was oddly tentative.

"Roland, it's a pleasure," she smiled, hoping the words didn't seem too forced. Everything she endured leading up to their ununprecedented meeting had been draining.

"The pleasure is mine," he amended graciously, placing a hand on his muscular chest. "I'm glad to see you pulled through. Zed might be, uh...lessconventionalthan you're used to, but he's all we've got."

Reliving _that_ experience wasn't something Sera wanted to do. Changing the subject, she decided to get straight to the point with, "Does the name 'Angel' mean anything to you?"

Bristling at the unexpected name-drop, the weary soldier seemed to go through several emotions, while doing his best not to show it.

"Yes, it sure does," was his response, sounding not at all fond of the artificial intelligence. "She likes to meddle. Let me guess; she told you to come here."

"She did," Seraphina confirmed, unsettled by the information she was gathering. "Any idea why?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Ambassador," Roland said with a shrug, "We don't trust her. Not after the way she manipulated us."

Glancing back at Zer0, who lingered in the doorway--listening from a distance--Sera wondered what he thought of Angel. She enlisted him to infiltrate Helios for the purpose of protecting Sera from some unspecified threat. All along, the ultimate goal was delivering her to Sanctuary. Was there something else he neglected to mention, or was he in the dark as well?

Another question arose: "Commander, when you said 'us', did you mean the Raiders?"

Roland shook his head and sighed a bit, stepping away to gaze at a picture that was pinned to a pegboard on the wall nearby. His bulky physique blocked Sera's view, so she moved closer.

"No, I meant the four of us," Roland specified, directing her attention to the photograph, "Me, Brick, Mordecai...and Lilith."

It was a group picture, featuring the four Vault Hunters who arrived on Pandora before Jack's official conquest began. The soldier, brute, sniper, and infamous Siren--bandits called her the Firehawk.

"Commander Roland," Sera prompted, pulling him ftom some reverence over those days long past, "Are you telling me that _Angel..._spoke to all of you?"

Arms folding over his chest, the Commander nodded, before elaborating, "We thought of her like a guardian angel, guiding us" he laughed sourly, "Then we realized the truth, or at least, the _obvious_. She wanted us to open that damn Vault. Pandora went from being a lawless wasteland to something worse--a fascist dictatorship. Handsome Jack has been after the power of the Vaults for years. Something told me Angel knew what unleashing The Destroyer would cause..."

Curious about how close he was to an epiphany, Sera prompted, "Do you think there's a connection?"

Roland pondered that for a minute, rubbing his strong chin, before shrugging in a noncommittal way.

"Whatever her reasons are, you're here," he redirected, steering the conversation away from the mysterious A.I. and her ulterior motives. Saluting in Zer0's direction, he said, "Thank you for escorting the Ambassador safely, soldier. Go find Moxxi--she's got a, uh...'special request' for you."

Nodding, Zer0 picked up on the cue for him to leave. He raised his right hand and waggled his fingers at Sera in a gesture of farewell, having accomplished his mission. Without further delay, he literally vanished into thin air. Admittedly, she was saddened to see their partnership end. Still, she was confident they would cross paths again, eventually.

"This meeting is long overdue," Roland continued once the two of them were alone. Lightly touching Sera's arm, he gestured toward the doorway and said, "Please, walk with me. There's something I want to show you."

Following anyone anywhere without someone else to watch her back was dangerous. Nevertheless, Sera trusted that Roland was more honorable, or at least smarter, than the bloodthirsty criminals overrunning the planet.

"Lead the way," Sera replied, already feeling more vulnerable in the absence of her former bodyguard.

Nodding with a genuine smile, Roland strolled ahead at a pace she could keep up with. At the bottom of the stairs, he waited for her and held out his hand to lightly touch her upper-back. "Best stick close to me. There are new faces every day, not all friendly," he advised.

"That's comforting," she remarked sarcastically. "I'm used to people trying to kill me, at this point."

Chuckling a bit, Roland lead on and Sera followed close behind. While she walked the streets of Sanctuary, her gaze strayed to the sky as they often did when she was separated from Henry. The domineering blue eye of Helios glowed more vibrantly in the dusk, which arrived sometime while she was inside the Crimson Raiders' headquarters. Somewhere on that space station, Henry was likely tearing out his hair, anxiously waiting to hear from her.

Guilt had been festering inside, ever since Henry was used as a tool of interrogation against her. What if he was already being punished for Sera's unauthorized activity in Overlook?

Whatever was happening on Helios in her absence, Sera couldn't allow the unknown to interfere with her field work. There was nothing she could do until she returned upon finishing her business with Roland in Sanctuary.

"Everything okay?"

Pulling her attention back to her surroundings, Sera realized that she had fallen several feet behind Roland. The Commander had turned to wait, frowning deeply; he knew something was wrong.

"No," she replied honestly, knowing he wouldn't believe the automatic claim she was just fine. "Sorry, I just have other things...Don't worry, I'm right behind you."

Roland awkwardly stood there for a moment, not quite sure what to say or if any efforts to console her would work.

"Right then," he said, after clearing his throat quietly. "This way," he instructed, waving her along before strolling onward.

Berating herself for lowering her guard like that, she hastened to catch up with the much taller Roland. When he stopped at the end of the street, he half-turned to wait and gestured for her to enter the doorway first. Overhead, a haphazardly nailed sign marked the entrance to Marcus' Munitions. Sera was hardly eager to meet that war-profiteering conman in the flesh. Just why in the hell would Roland direct her to an arms-dealer?

Saving her questions, the Hyperion girl descended cement steps into the dingy bowels of the dimly-lit shop. Sure enough, the man called Marcus was seated behind the register; metal bars separated him from any customers who might wander in with ill intent. Doing her best not to grimace as she noted the blood stains on the floor and walls, Sera waited for Roland to make his way down.

"Ah, welcome, welcome!" Marcus greeted Sera in particular, extending his arms as if to embrace you through the bars. "What a pleasure to meet the most famous woman on Pandora! Can I get you to sign one of my guns? Or better yet, _all_ of my guns? Eh?"

"Not this again," Roland sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Marcus, _no one_ wants to sign your guns."

"Bah! You just love to crush my dreams. I didn't hear a no," the man grinned, waggling his heavy eyebrows at Sera.

"Sorry, I, uh...don't do autographs," she answered, decidedly annoyed by the idea of being a celebrity. Perhaps it was all the sleep deprivation and near-death experiences that provoked her to add, "But I'm sure if you asked Jack, he'd love to."

The mention of the infamously arrogant dictator immediately changed the atmosphere of the room. Marcus blinked as if that was the last thing he expected her to say. He glanced at Roland, seeking help or a rebuttal for her well-placed jab, but the Commander was in no mood to humor the man. Seeing there was no way to dig himself out of that hole, Marcus let out an obnoxious guffaw.

"Well, maybe next time you swing by, eh?" the arms-dealer prompted, before dropping the matter entirely. "What can I do for you, then?"

Roland chose that moment to step forward, resting his hand on the meticulously-polished counter as he leaned toward the bars, leveling his eyes at the man. "Show her the thing," he ordered, his voice slightly lowered.

Marcus furrowed his thick brows as he briefly glanced over at Seraphina, then conspiratorially leaned closer to Roland.

"Are you sure she can _handle_ the thing?" he questioned, like a concerned grandfather who ignored the fact she could hear every word.

Stepping closer, Sera folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at the two men. "Show me what?" she asked, unable to contain her irritation over their secrecy.

Roland rubbed the back of his neck; a thing he did whenever he was nervous.

"Sorry, Ambassador, it's best if you see it first. Follow Marcus, I'll be right behind you," the Commander said, stepping aside while he pushed open a door leading to an area deeper into the shop.

"What the boss said," Marcus grunted, beckoning with a lazy wave before disappearing into the back.

Sighing in defeat, Sera decided to play along and passed by the oddly-secretive Commander. Toward the back of the shop was a shooting range. Marcus stood waiting there, humming a tune. Once Roland closed the door behind them, Marcus turned and Sera followed with the Commander not far behind. The arms-dealer lead her into what could only be called an armory.

Guns, shields, and grenades from several different manufacturers piled the shelves. Most of which were scavenged from corpses, waiting to be resold to the next poor soul caught up in the chaos.

Retrieving a small box from one of the shelves, Marcus approached the nervous Hyperion diplomat with a wide grin on his face.

"This beauty was a royal pain in the ass to get my hands on. But Roland ordered it himself. Anything for our fearless leader, eh? Go on, take a peek," Marcus prompted, holding the box for her to open.

Casting Roland a perplexed glance, Sera waited for some kind of explanation. Dedicated to his theatrics, he made a small hand gesture for her to look for herself. Lifting her hand calmly, she unlatched the box and pushed the hinged lid back. Nestled inside of a velvety, cushioned material was...

"A pen?" she observed aloud. Marcus lightly bounced the box in his hands, urging her to remove its contents. Delicately grasping the small object between her thumb and index finger, she admired the craftsmanship. She was infinitely more skilled in wielding a pen than a weapon. As far as pens went, it was quite lovely.

"Careful!" Roland warned, reaching out as if Sera was handling an explosive. When she blinked at him, baffled, he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Just, uh, don't jab yourself," he cautioned, only magnifying her suspicion.

"Pure gold?" Sera asked Marcus, noticing how heavy it was by pen standards.

"Not quite, but you were close," Marcus stated, his eyes gleaming with pride at having come into possession of such a priceless object. "The _casing_ is solid gold. The tip is pure diamond; sharp enough to cut through any surface, if one applies enough pressure. The ink, well, that's the best part," his devious grin widened, as he rubbed his large hands together. Nodding his head toward Roland, he nudged Sera, "Well, _he_ can tell you."

Folding his arms, Roland gave the arms-dealer a stern look before leveling his eyes with Sera's.

"I know this might be hard for you to consider, but hear me out, and you're free to go," the Commander began, his tone perhaps too light as he tried not to come off as over-bearing. "We need you to give the pen to Jack."

"Or you could stab him with it; same effect but way more entertaining for story-time," suggested Marcus with another guffaw, which he quickly stifled when Roland deadpanned.

Staring at the pen in her hand, the harmless object suddenly became a deadly weapon. Taken aback by the shady arrangement, Sera sought clarification from Roland, "Hold on...are you suggesting that I _assassinate_ Handsome Jack...with a pen?"

Roland seemed uncomfortable in the situation, but he had obviously given it enough thought if he brought Seraphina to Marcus.

"Bandits are a problem for all of us. But tell me, do you think a man like Jack is any different? Do you think he should be allowed to slaughter unarmed men, women, and children without facing justice?" the Commander asked, stepping closer to her as his passion took over.

War crimes were a subject she was quite well-informed on. Nobody had to explain to Sera whom she was affiliated with.

"Roland," she spoke coolly, knowing exactly where he was going with his speech.

Roland placed his large hands on her shoulders, peering straight into her eyes as he implored, "Please consider the advantages you have over all of us down here. You might be Hyperion, but you are our greatest ally on that space station. Handsome Jack will not stop until he wipes us all off the face of Pandora."

Closing her eyes, it took immeasurable restraint for Sera to keep calm. What was being asked of her was unfair, to put it lightly.

Roland could tell she was becoming upset, so he attempted to smooth things over, "I know you're a pacifist, and I respect that. The pen is a gift to you; it's your decision what to do with it. All I ask is that your choice benefits the greater good."

Among the cruelest of men, Handsome Jack held the title as the most powerful and influential. Regardless of how much Sera abhorred his heavy-handed methods of retaliation against bandit clans--mot to mention the atrocity committed in New Haven...she was no assassin. The very thought of having blood on her hands made her feel like dry-heaving into a bucket.

"Roland, what you're asking me to do goes against the oath I took when I founded the Department of Pandoran Relations," she informed him as calmly as she could, while struggling with the inner turmoil. "My job is to facilitate peace and encourage cooperation with Hyperion. Not murder politicians."

"Fair enough," Roland nodded out of respect, removing his enormous hands from her shoulders. Disarmed, he stepped back, permitting Sera to have personal space. Disappointed but no less companionable, he said, "I won't force you. Thank you for your consideration, Ambassador. It was an honor to have this opportunity. I hope we can speak again soon. Zer0," he addressed the formerly-undetected assassin, who had appeared as if on cue. "Make sure no one gives her trouble on her way out, soldier."

Zer0 saluted in a manner that could only be sarcastic, which caused Roland to roll his eyes.

"Thank you for having me, Commander," Sera recited the formality with genuine feeling, but fatigue strained her voice. Roland nodded and attempted a smile, but the heavy burden on his own mind made it a sad expression. Once he departed, Marcus cleared his throat to catch her attention.

"Take the box for safe-keeping," he suggested amicably. Marcus seemed unsure whether she would accept it; when she reluctantly did, he smiled warmly. Like most Pandorans, there was something deeper beneath his rough extorior. "Hey, between you and me, that Roland comes off way too strong. He's not a bad guy, though. Saved my life."

"I know," Sera replied quietly, as she placed the pen into the small box with extreme care, "I heard the stories."

"Well, then I won't bore you with telling it again," Marcus said, before he paused in thought. "Roland was right, you know. You have the upper-hand over that egomaniac. Best you realize it before good old Jack does, eh?"

Meeting the elder man's eyes, Sera could tell he was trying to warn her to tread carefully once she returned to Helios. Nobody had to explain the dangers of navigating the corporate hell that was Hyperion, but it was good to know that people were on her side. Even if they were trying to convince Sera to murder her boss.

Comforted by the presence of Zer0 once more, she followed his lead to Pierce Station in silence. Sera was yearning for a hot bath and good sleep, but there were things she wanted to say to the unlikely hero--who saved her life multiple times in the same day.

Reaching the fast travel station, Zer0 pivoted on his heels to face Sera, and the impulse to embrace him couldn't be resisted. The warmhearted assassin was unprepared and momentarily paralyzed, but after a moment of hesitation he placed both hands on her back.

Pulling away from his lean, armored body, Sera attempted to smooth back her wild brown hair. It was rare for her to feel this flustered and vulnerable, in a good way. A heart emoticon appeared over Zer0's head, making her blush; it would be a lie if she denied being somewhat attracted to him, after everything.

"I just wanted to thank you, for rescuing me," she explained, a little embarrassed she just went in for the hug without asking. That insecurity caused her to ramble on, "I know you probably got paid lots of money for it, but that doesn't matter. I, uhm... I appreciate it."

"_Call me whenever/ you require companionship./ Payment; not needed."_

It was reassuring to know he could be depended upon without monetary gain as the incentive. "I'll remember that," Sera told him with an appreciative smile. "Stay safe, okay?"

A smiley-face emoticon displayed over his helmet. Good enough for her.

Mentally preparing herself for whatever hell awaited, she pulled the employee I.D. card from its place secured to her pants and swiped it over the receiver. The surreal feeling of being dematerialized was nauseating in her condition. When her boots planted firmly on solid flooring, she opened her eyes.

Oh, fuck.

Rather than materializing in the domestic quadrant of Helios, where the Hyperion employee apartments were located, she had been transported directly into the territory she planned to avoid. Handsome Jack's office.

"Hey there, pumpkin. How was your stay with the rebel scum?"


	8. Chapter Seven:

Looming perilously over the precipice of a mental breakdown, Seraphina had absolutely zero energy to handle the browbeating she was about to be subjected to. Briefly, she pondered over the perfectly-viable option of sidestepping Handsome Jack without acknowledging his presence whatsoever.

That could end in two entirely different ways. He might be so flabbergasted by the feeling of being invisible that he would cease to function. Or, he would brutally murder her in some morbidly spectacular display of self-validating violence. The former would be hilarious enough to revive some life into her body. As for the latter; the unappealing prospect served as a sufficient incentive to give Jack the attention he craved.

"Handsome Jack, sir," was her pre-programmed greeting. Slowly, she turned to brave the impending fit of rage. The simple motion nearly caused her to topple over, as her legs struggled to balance her bodyweight. Zed's health tonic had officially left her system, taking the adrenaline rush and soothing effects along with it.

Muscular arms flexing as they were folded over his broad chest, Jack must've been reciting some kind of menacing speech upon her return to Helios. Exploiting the security override he had, he programmed the fast-travel system to re-route in the event that she used her employee identification badge. Thus, ensuring she would be delivered right into his office.

Whatever he planned to do in retaliation for her misconduct--having broken the terms and conditions--something distracted him.

The instant Sera turned, his previously-glowering eyes widened and his tightly-screwed jaw unhinged in shock.

"What in the ever-loving fuck happened to you? I mean, holy shit," he exclaimed. He ineffectively pressed a clenched fist over his lips to contain a very obvious fit of laughter.

Mocking the pain and suffering of others might have been some messed up coping mechanism, developed over years of living in a chaotic and tremendously violent environment. However, Sera wasn't a certified psychotherapist. So, she was under no obligation to give him leniency for being an asshole.

Unamused by his insensitive giggling, Sera pouted her lips to avoid scowling. Her pacifist nature was the only thing preventing her from slugging him on the jaw. Arms folded rigidly, she concealed how offended she really was. It was a challenge not to fire off a scathing remark. At least if he was entertained, he would hold off on beating her senseless.

"One of your Loader Bots exploded and part of it impaled me," she responded, in a manner similar to the robot in question. Human speech became increasingly tedious with every second she was forced to linger. Averting her eyes, she added listlessly, "I'm alive, though. So there's that."

Unexpectedly, she felt the warmth of his hand brushing over the skin of her exposed stomach. While she was explaining the unfortunate event of her nearly-fatal injury, Jack reached out with a child-like curiosity. He lacked the restraint necessary in normal human interaction; relating to others wasn't his strongest personality trait.

"And now you have a badass scar. Silver lining, right?" Jack offered as consolation.

Under any other circumstances, Sera would've jumped back or slapped his hand away like it was a venomous serpent. The rational part of her mind decided she was simply too exhausted to bother. He was just harmlessly moving the fabric of her ruined blouse aside, inspecting the three-inch-long scar marking the flesh over her navel.

Curved and jagged, the discolored tissue resembled what could be the remnants of a celestial body, floating in the wake of a world-ending catastrophe. Curiosity begged the question; what did it look like to Jack?

The ruthless Dictator of Pandora was smiling. Not in the misleading way that foreshadowed death, or the malevolent grin of a man who delighted in tormenting lesser mortals. There was no malice tightening his lips, nor was there any ill-intent behind his eyes. After all the physical and emotional trauma that would most definitely cause Sera night-terrors...it was a relief that Jack wasn't being an insufferable dickhead.

Reminiscent of the expression he wore earlier, when he returned her bracelet, he seemed almost kind.

Disconcerted by the ambiguous look on her face, Jack frowned and began to retract his hand. Perhaps he thought he had overstepped boundaries. Before her rational self could reign in her impulsive and daring alter-ego, Sera caught his hand. His brows lifted at her brazen action.

Jack had all the strength to jerk free if he wanted, but he allowed Sera to guide his hand back to her stomach.

Something about the genuine awe on his face inexplicably turned her on. The fact she could elicit such a reaction from a man in his position was empowering. Remaining where he stood, Jack proceeded to stroke his fingertips over the sensitive flesh and scar tissue. The heat radiating from his hand and skin-on-skin contact was therapeutic. Eyes fluttering closed, Sera subconsciously leaned her hips forward.

Funny, how such a simple touch could be so enjoyable.

Another hand ventured to her face, caressing her cheek, encouraging her to open her eyes. Jack had stepped closer to Sera, his chest only a couple inches apart from hers while he captivated her with a smoldering gaze.

"Kiss me," he prompted in a low, sensual voice. It was more of a suggestion than a command. Unlike the first time their lips met, he was giving her the power to consent or refuse.

The list of reasons not to kiss Handsome Jack could be written in-depth and published in several volumes, detailing every act of depravity and disregard he had shown for human life. Yet there was a mutual attraction between them, as impossible to ignore as it was to explain. It defied all conventional laws of reason entirely.

To hell with being rational.

Forsaking all her inhibitions, Sera snagged hold of his jacket collar. Tugging him down so she wouldn't need to stand on her tip-toes, she captured his lips with unrestrained fervor. For a mind-blowing moment, he held still and allowed her to control the kiss. Sera took advantage of his temporary vulnerability, stealing his breath like he had done to her.

Then his hand slid from her stomach to encircle his arm around her waist. Leaving her cheek, his other hand wove into the tangled hair at the nape of her neck. His tongue requested entry, which she granted, moaning softly when his tongue massaged over hers. He imitated her moan with a deeper, more masculine sound that was closer to a growl, tightening the arm around her waist so her heels were lifted off the floor.

With her hands latched onto the collar of his jacket, it was a relief to Sera's aching legs that he was supporting the entirety of her weight. She was able to completely surrender to the kiss, without worrying about the possibility of collapsing. Jack conquered her mouth as ruthlessly as he had seized control over Pandora.

When he finally broke the kiss, they were both breathing hot and heavy, clinging onto each other as their bodies trembled.

"Let me tell you, cupcake; if you didn't look ready to pass out, I would be ripping your clothes off right now," Jack admitted with a breathy laugh. Unprofessional would be a severe understatement, in regard to the subject of having forbidden office sex on top of his desk.

Earlier, the very thought would've repulsed Sera, but something had been irrevocably altered inside of her after recent events. Perhaps her moral compass was damaged, when she was caught in the path of a detonating Loader Bot…

While Jack still clutched her against his solid body, his other hand was idly toying with a strand of her hair; he was unbothered by the traces of blood, dust, and gore. Pouting in deep thought, he mused, "There was a thing I wanted to talk about, but now I can't remember what it was. Any guesses? Really, I'm drawing a blank here."

Things had certainly gone off the rails after a sensual touch ignited the passion they both held back for the sake of professionalism. While her heart hadn't quite calmed to its usual beat, Sera knew exactly what Jack had been about to reprimand her for before the impromptu make-out session. He would eventually recall her indiscretions, so the girl sighed and resigned herself to refreshing his memory. It suddenly made her nervous, how much she was currently relying on him to remain upright.

"I think you were about to yell at me for fast-traveling into Overlook during an assault. And you were probably going to strangle me for visiting Sanctuary without permission."

Pursing his lips slightly as he listened, Jack widened his eyes as it all came rushing back to him like a major buzzkill.

"Oh, right, right. I was about to kill you, I think," he muttered, furrowing his brows in deep thought before chuckling. The empty threat still had Sera's body tensing up, which he noticed. "Just kidding! You're too cute. I feel like we've had this conversation before. I like having you around, Sera."

Well, that was comforting. Even if she was still puzzled as to why he was so fixated on her.

"Seriously, though," Jack continued, "If anybody else pulled that crap, I wouldn't even strangle them. That's wasted energy. Do you know how long it actually takes to kill someone that way? Not even worth it. They would win a one-way trip out of an airlock; efficient and no messy clean-up. Consider yourself the exception, cupcake. Not everyone gets away with the things you do."

Nonchalantly discussing the most practical method to execute employees who stepped out of line was the best way to kill the mood. The rational voice in her mind could be heard, screaming harsh judgement at Sera for showing the slightest affection toward a mass-murderer. Being held in his arms had lost its comforting effect. In that instant, she wanted to put as much distance between them as physically possible, disturbed beyond words.

Jack seemed to notice the change in her body language, as she leaned back to the furthest extent she was able.

"Was it something I said?" he ventured to ask; the genuine tone of his voice helped his case, but there was no justifying the tendencies he had toward murder.

"You really know how to make a girl feel special, Jack," was her sardonic remark, causing his frown to deepen to the point where his forehead wrinkled.

"Meaning?" he prompted in a drawn-out enunciation.

There was no amount of patience, nor ample supply of crayons, available for Sera to sit down with him and explain everything that bothered her about his behavior. While she believed everyone was capable of being reformed and redeemed, that was contingent on their complete willingness to change. The crucial first step would be admitting they were wrong, which she was ninety-nine percent certain Jack was incapable of doing. It was a dangerous trap to fall into; attempting to change any man. Especially one with such a history of violence and severely damaged psyche.

"Forget it, Jack," Sera told him with a sigh, managing to wiggle enough from his hold to plant her feet on the floor. Releasing the collar of his jacket, she slid her hands down so they were lightly planted on his chest-- if only to fend off any further advances.

"If you don't plan on reprimanding me, or killing me, then I'd like to go take a shower. And maybe even sleep, who knows."

The man seemed confused by the conflicting messages Sera was sending; something she felt guilty over, deciding that it had been a moment of weakness on her part. Jack loosened his arm from around her waist but didn't pull away entirely, resting his hand on the curve of her back.

Before the silence could drag on to the point of being painful, he pretended to shiver and joked, "Brr, I think I felt a draft. What's with the cold shoulder all the sudden, babe?"

Hearing him call her that very specific term of endearment caused Sera to pull back. Resisting the urge to flee the office like she had before, she had to repair the boundaries that had been dismantled. It was time for her to do the right thing for everyone involved.

"We can't do this…" she stated, unable to ignore how her own heart winced.

Rejection wasn't something Jack handled well.

"Woah, okay, okay--pause there for a second," he told Sera, holding up his hands in a placating manner. "This is too fast for you, I can tell. None of this was planned, you just... surprised me, that's all. I can dial things down a notch or two, no problem."

Closing her eyes, she prepared for the worst part.

"Jack…you know this classifies as a conflict of interest. What I do, and because of who you are...this can't happen. I don't know what I am to you--a fling, or whatever--but if word gets out, it's going to cause problems for us both."

Jack stopped her from walking away by planting both hands on her shoulders, and lightly sliding them down to her forearms. "A fling?" he repeated, "You've got it all wrong, cupcake."

"Jack," she pleaded softly, fists clenching but unable to pull away just yet. Why was he making things so difficult? What was he hoping to accomplish? Was it all part of some plan to comprimise her department? All of these possibilities only worsened the self-disgust she felt.

"I was afraid of this. Sera, look at me," he implored as his voice took on a strained quality; he was getting emotional, which was heartbreaking for her to watch. His hands grasped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Nobody can touch you when you're with me," he assured, as if the danger was what frightened her, "Don't let what people think stop you from taking what you want."

There was no denying that he made a good argument, but Sera couldn't be so selfish. Reaching up to grasp his wrists, she was able to slip her face free. Blinking away tears, the next words came out in a pained voice, "I shouldn't have kissed you, Jack. I'm sorry."

Speechless, Jack was too stunned by the one-hundred-eighty-degree turn on the situation to grab hold of her again. Sera hastily moved around him and practically ran from his office, muffling a sob by pressing a hand over her mouth.What the hell is wrong with me?

Overcome with tormented emotions, her body shut down halfway across the deserted Hub of Heroism and she crumpled to the floor.

"Sera?" she heard, before someone crouched on the floor nearby and grasped her shoulders.

Panicking for a moment, she thought it was Jack until she recognized the blue hair and amber-colored eyes.

"Henry…" was her pathetic whimper. The entire universe seemed to be self-destructing around her. There was no explaining anything at that point; she had become a sobbing mess of a woman

Directing an accusing glare toward Jack's office, Henry knew there had to be some connection. Whether or not her friend had the mind to confront their boss over what happened, Sera was his first priority.

Sweeping her up off the floor, he opted to carry her, knowing she was incapable of walking a single step in her current state.

Fast-traveling to the living quarters, Henry carried Sera all the way to her apartment. Despite being a lanky man, he was stronger than he looked. Swiping Sera's employee badge, he unlocked the door. Inside the relative safety of her private quarters, she felt more at ease. Gently setting the mournful girl down on the sofa, Henry tucked himself in the corner.

Managing to shed her jacket, Sera tossed it to the floor while Henry placed a pillow over his lap. Naturally, she laid her head there, curling up close to the only person who had consistently supported her over the years.

Rather than firing off questions about what he missed, Henry said comforting things like, "You're safe now" and "I'm here, nobody can hurt you". His hand idly petted Sera's head, smoothing out some tangles in her grossly matted hair. He occasionally wiped away tears, but the flow was constant.

After what seemed like an hour of crying, and Henry soothing her, fatigue won out. Energy depleted, her conscious mind drifted off and Sera was able to sleep. Henry's presence allowed her to relax enough to get a decent amount of rest.

Waking some hours later, Sera found herself huddled on the sofa alone. The stinging of her eyes forced her to close them again. All that crying had irritated them; they were red and puffy, no doubt. Groaning miserably, she slung an arm over them, unwilling to get up just yet.

Running water could be heard, coming from the bathroom. Henry hadn't left; he must've gotten up recently, to shower. Comforted by that, she decided to snooze a little longer. He would wake her up if he had to...

Sure enough, Henry nudged her shoulder. "Sera," he said softly, knowing he didn't need to raise his voice. She was a pretty light sleeper, as most people had to be living anywhere near Pandora.

"I'm up," she grumbled, opening her eyes reluctantly to observe the tall form leaning over the sofa.

Henry had changed into fresh clothes; th ey both kept clothing in the other's apartment, for the occasional sleepover. His shirt was black, with gold-tinted buttons, while his sleek black pants had similar gold accents. He ruffled his hair with a towel, causing the locks of blue to look like the feathers of a funny-looking bird.

"Nice hair. You should wear it like that more often," Sera teased, still half-asleep.

"You're making fun of me. Does that mean you're feeling okay?"

Sleep had definitely restored some of the girl's sanity. She sighed, pushing herself up into a sitting position. Smoothing back her horrid mess of hair, she confirmed, "Yeah, I'm okay."

Henry seemed unsure whether to believe that. "Hungry?" he asked, putting off the conversation that needed to happen sooner or later.

"Breakfast. Pretty please."

Nodding with a smile, Henry turned and headed off into the small kitchen area. Lazing on the sofa, she used the free time to collect her thoughts. Ten minutes later, Henry emerged with two plates of food. He set his down on the coffee table, returning to the kitchen to grab the fresh pot of coffee and two mugs.

Shoveling some eggs into her mouth, she chewed slowly to avoid choking. It had been almost an entire twenty-four-hours since her last meal; the healing tonic she ingested didn't count as actual food.

Henry settled down next to her, eating his own food quietly. Once she finished her plate, Sera went for the coffee, preparing it just how she liked it. Gulping down an entire mug full of the wonderful stuff, she began to feel somewhat human again.

Sera was still in her filthy clothes from the previous day, which felt gross. She had never longed for a shower more in her entire life, but she knew Henry wanted to talk.

Swallowing the last bite of his food, Henry took both plates to the kitchen sink. Then he returned to his place beside Sera. His arm rested on the back of the sofa, behind her head. She nestled against his side, resting her head on his shoulder with a sigh, dreading the subjects that would need to be discussed.

"Sera, I need to ask you something," Henry finally spoke, tacitly. "You would tell me if Jack…hurt you, right?"

The way he said "hurt" was rife with implications. He didn't need to be blunt; she could interpret he meant something of a sexually violent nature.

"He didn't," Sera assured him, lifting her head so he could see the sincerity on her face, "And of course I'd tell you."

Henry averted his eyes for a moment, as he considered her answer. "It's just that I saw you run from his office. You were so upset, I couldn't help but think…"

Grasping the hand he rested on his lap, she squeezed it gently. "It wasn't like that, Henry. Trust me, okay? Jack's an asshole. But I don't think even he would do _that_."

"How do you know that?" Henry asked, keeping his cool but clearly unsettled by the topic. Heaving a sigh, he squeezed her hand in return. "If you say so, then I'll trust your word on it. I'm just glad you're not dead. Everyone thought you were."

"Seriously?" she blurted out, baffled that they had jumped to conclusions so quickly.

Henry locked eyes with her, dead serious.

"Sera, your ECHO-comm went offline. I had no way to contact you. Propaganda was already being written about how you were killed by rebels. They were going to broadcast it all over Pandora. I was on my way to Jack, to set things straight. That's when I saw you there, on the floor, crying."

How enlightening. People were eager to dig her grave, before they even had a corpse to bury. While she reflected on that morbid reality, Henry continued, "There's something else you should know…"

Blinking, she met his amber eyes and regretted it. The sorrow in them told her the news would be devastating.

"Overlook is gone."

"What do you mean?" Sera asked, shaking her head slowly as she was already in denial. "It can't just be 'gone'."

"It was occupied by Crimson Raiders," Henry pointed out glumly. He anxiously ran a hand through the semi-dry hair draping his forehead. After he collected his thoughts, he looked back at her and explained, "Overlook wasn't protected by a shield, like Sanctuary is. Jack exploited that. Moonshots were fired. It's gone, Sera…There were no survivors."

Mouth open, a strangled sound of grief escaped before she could stop it. Standing up, Sera aimlessly walked away from the sofa, as if she could step out of reality to escape the truth.

"No, I was just there," she thought aloud, distraught.

Replaying the moments over in her head, she recalled all the carnage and death. While the Crimson Raiders and Hyperion forces were at war, the town had remained relatively in-tact. The locals had been quarantined in their homes. They must've been terrified, cowering indoors as they had been forced to do for months. Recovering from the Skull Shivers had been hard enough on them. Being caught in the middle of a battle was the last thing they needed...

Running both hands through her hair, Sera was starting to hyperventilate, on the verge of another mental break. Overlook had their defenses down, because they were under the protection of Hyperion. _She _was the one who convinced the inhabitants to remain compliant; they hadn't put up any shields, which left them wide open to the moonshots.

"It's my fault," Sera whimpered, "Oh god..."

Henry was on his feet, enveloping her into a hug. "Don't say that," he chastised, his voice strained. He was trying to keep his own emotions in check, to comfort Sera. The disdain was clear as he stressed the fact, "Jack gave the orders. The blood is on _his_ hands, not yours."

Clutching at the fabric of his shirt, she fought back sobs. "I'm sorry," she whispered, loathing all the terrible mistakes she had made. The one that pained her most was how Jack used him against her. "I'm a terrible friend..."

"No, I should be apologizing," Henry countered, smoothing his hand over her hair. "You were protecting me. I know how things work around here. Stop blaming yourself for Jack's actions, Sera."

Sniffling, she nodded and hugged him tighter. He never failed to ease her conscience; whether or not she deserved his forgiveness, he never held anything against her. He was her best friend and greatest ally. Reflecting on what they had been through together, she recalled the unpleasant reunion with a certain pair of bounty hunters.

"Rian and Gunner are back," Sera informed him quietly.

The mention of the pink-haired menace caused an involuntary reaction in Henry. His shoulders tensed and his hand stilled on Sera's back. She could even hear him catch his breath. He certainly had no fond memories of the twins; Rian, specifically, left an impression on him that scarred more than his flesh.

"Son of a bitch..." he muttered scornfully. "They were supposed to stay off world."

"Rian shot at me," she mentioned in passing, as that wouldn't come as a shock. For some reason, she felt obligated to add, "Gunner was sweet, though."

"Sure he was," Henry replied cynically. He didn't share the same..._understanding_ with Gunner that Sera did. "They were in Sanctuary?"

Nodding against his chest, she composed herself before pulling back to look up into his eyes. "Roland contacted them. He was trying to recruit them, but Gunner wanted no part of it."

Pondering that, Henry looked none too pleased. Wetting his lips, he shared his thoughts, "I have a bad feeling that's not why they're back."

Sera had the same suspicions, but nothing else to go on. "Any guesses?"

"Knowing them, it has to do with money. Maybe Jack summoned them to get rid of the Vault Hunters."

"Maybe..." she responded distantly, as her mind drifted. There was something else she had neglected to explain Henry; the matter of Roland asking her to help assassinate Handsome Jack. Withholding those things from him felt wrong, but anything he knew would put his life in danger. She decided to leave that subject untouched for the time being.

"I should shower," she told him, beginning to pull away.

Henry nodded, but caught her arm gently. "We need to call a board meeting," he advised, before adding grimly, "to discuss what happened in Overlook."

He was right, of course. Such a tragedy needed to be addressed, as soon as possible. Swallowing at the lump in her throat, Sera nodded mutely. Henry let go, allowing her to head toward the bathroom. While she stripped free of the soiled clothing, he was busy calling all the necessary figures to gather for the meeting.

Beneath the steaming deluge, Sera allowed herself to relax, knowing the next twelve-plus hours of her shift would a nightmare.

Scrubbing the blood--most of which didn't belong to her--from her skin and hair, Sera forced herself to detach emotionally. If she started to cry, there was no telling when the tears would stop. Nobody would take her seriously if she showed up to the meeting with red, puffy eyes.

With her hair properly washed and body cleansed of all things vile, Sera begrudgingly turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel. Stepping out of the bathroom, she glanced toward the den where Henry was pacing, agitated. He was speaking with someone over his ECHO comm. She would've listened in, but that would be awkward considering she was naked, in a towel.

Quickly ducking into her bedroom, she searched through her wardrobe. A pantsuit would be appropriate for the meeting ahead, so she went for jet-black pants, a matching jacket, and a sapphire blouse. After all, she was in mourning.

Dressing in record time, Sera hastily dried her hair and decided to leave it down, having no time to do anything fancy with it. Applying minimal makeup, she slipped on a pair of flat shoes before heading back to meet Henry.

"Sera, we have a problem," Henry said when the girl came into view, walking over to her urgently.

Frowning, she searched his face for clues. His brow was furrowed, as something deeply troubled him. She had to ask, "What is it?"

He was about to explain, when he glanced down at his watch. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath. "We have no time. The meeting is already in session. Come on."

When he snagged her hand to rush out, there was no use resisting. Sera followed him to the door and swiped her badge to unlock it, before taking the lead through the corridor.

"Does the problem have a name?" she inquired, since he was offering no hints.

"You're not going to like the answer to that," Henry said, once they reached the fast-travel station. He used his own badge, transporting them both to the appropriate wing where the meeting would be held. It was close to her office, in the same place the DPR's anniversary had been celebrated.

"Great," Sera muttered sarcastically. There was a very short list of names she knew that filled her with dread. It wasn't difficult to guess which one would be making a nuisance of their self at a board meeting.

Pausing at the entrance to the room, Sera took a breath to compose herself. Henry placed a hand on her upper back, rubbing lightly to soothe her nerves and remind her he was there for support. Nodding once to him, she was ready. Then she stepped closer to prompt the automatic door to open. When it did, she was able to see everyone seated around the table.

Seven people; six of whom Sera knew were allies, friends, and colleagues worthy of indisputable trust.

The unwelcome seventh had made it her life's purpose to torment the girl, in every way conceivable in her vindictive little mind.

"Seraphina! Back from the dead, I see. What a relief! Ladies and gentlemen, please give your warmest greetings to the Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations. Or should I say, the _former_ Head."


	9. Chapter Eight:

Luciana Pallor radiated self-importance like an empress who had usurped the throne. Her silver hair was smoothed back by a regal-looking comb, secured like a crown atop her head. Her elegant beauty was counterbalanced by the haughty arch of her brow and conceited pout. A businesswoman in her forties, her heart was devoid of warmth or compassion. Rumors circulated Helios that the unforgiving severity of her stare could turn men to stone. Other break-room whispers alleged that she consumed human hearts to preserve her everlasting youth.

Sera wasn't inclined to believe such nonsense. Nevertheless, the woman was dreadful.

Reginald had been little more than a servant to his wife's whims. In hindsight, Sera sort of missed the idle threats. He never would've sabotaged the department intentionally, since it boosted his image as a philanthropist. Luciana was the real threat.

The recently-widowed woman was eyeing Sera coldly. Like a serpent, determining how to go about crushing her bones before consumption.

"Seraphina! Back from the dead, I see. What a relief!" she addressed with a false smile. It was as if her facial muscles were contorting, unsure how to mimic sincere emotion.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please give your warmest greetings to the Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations. Or should I say, the former Head."

Assembled around the table, the six members of the department's board turned their undivided attention to Sera. Every single one had been hand-picked by her or Henry, based on their usefulness and genuine passion for humanitarian work.

Janine; a lovely dark-skinned woman who was formerly an accountant, before transferring to work under Henry in the department of Hyperion Intelligence and Resources.

Thomas; an average-seeming guy who happened to know a thing or two about pretty much everything, like a personification of the ECHOnet.His vast understanding of the Six Galaxies proved useful when handling matters of cultural significance and intergalactic law.

Bentley; a young man born and raised on Elpis, dedicated historian and record-keeper for everything that transpired both aboard Helios and on Pandora.

Claudia; a weapons-expert whose extensive knowledge provided insight on the value of tradable goods.

Florance; a well-established scholar employed in the Intelligence field, serving as a connection to external sources unaffiliated with Hyperion.

And then there was Joseph; a retired Hyperion Engineer with years of experience on Pandora. Unlike a majority of the gun-toting grunts who neutralized all bandits on sight, he had shown mercy and refused to fire on unarmed targets. An act that earned him the unflattering label as a "bandit sympathizer".

Failing to comply with direct orders was a criminal offense, punishable by execution.

Catching wind of that through communication channels, Sera quickly intervened to stop the unjustified termination of a kindhearted man. Resigning from his position as an Engineer, Joseph traded field work for a tamer desk job. Out of gratitude, he wanted to serve as an adviser of sorts for the Department of Pandoran Relations.

Conscious of her heart pounding as these six individuals looked to her expectantly, Sera fought to hold it together. Revealing any weakness to Pallor would only provoke the woman to move in for the kill. Figuratively speaking. Or literally.

"Luciana," Sera greeted, moving further into the room while Henry shadowed her. "Thank you for directing this meeting in my absence. I'm here now, so you may step down."

Meeting her calculating stare, Sera resisted the shiver threatening to rattle her spine. The woman had the eyes of a reptile; it was unsettling how insincere her emotions were. Despite how she loathed to be anywhere within five miles of the woman, Sera approached to take her rightful place at the head of the table.

Laughing coldly, Luciana flipped her silver hair over her shoulder. Directing a look toward the board members as if sharing an inside joke, her lips could've been dripping with venom. Several of them lowered their eyes out of submission or shame. Joseph was the only one who returned her gaze unflinchingly, not intimidated in the least.

"You must have misheard me," she theorized arrogantly, turning her icy glare back to Sera, remaining seated. "You're the one who will be stepping down. Or you will be removed. It's up to you, doll-face; either way, you're being replaced."

Recalling the comment Luciana made when she entered the room, it dawned on Sera. She was serious. Blinking in disbelief, Sera shared glances with several members of the board. None of them were speaking up to dismiss Luciana's assertions.

"What gives you the authority to decide that?" Sera challenged, while a warm hand steadied her shoulder.

"I'd like to know the same thing," Henry agreed, narrowing his eyes critically at the older woman. "You have no affiliation with our department. No influence over our funding. No ground to stand on."

"On the contrary, handsome. My late husband left everything to me, including his share in this department. So, I have enough influence to replace whomever I please," she explained, with a haughty tilt of her head and malicious smile.

"That's not how it works," Sera protested.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Luciana," Henry interjected, having none of it. "You have influence, not absolute power over the department. In order for a new Head to be appointed, there needs to be a willing resignation, or a consensus on her removal."

"Very well," Luciana conceded, crossing her legs before turning to the board. "Bring any and all grievances to the board's attention. Speak now."

Someone cleared their throat. It was Bentley, who timidly lifted his hand. "I'd like to place my vote."

Without bothering to conceal the immense enjoyment she was gleaning from the situation, Luciana folded her hands on the table in anticipation. "Those in favor of removing Seraphina from her position, say 'aye'."

"Aye."

Well that stung. How could he deem it fair to kick her out of the department? Ignoring the fact Sera was one of its two original founders, she nearly died on numerous occasions protecting assets and defending innocents. All she asked of the board in return was support.

"Bentley," Henry addressed him evenly, while Sera was too baffled to speak. "Explain yourself, if you feel that strongly."

He seemed guilty for passing such harsh judgement, but unwilling to revoke his vote. Bentley sighed, adjusting the glasses that had slipped down the bridge of his nose. He cautiously met Sera's eyes to explain:

"We thought you were killed, Sera. The propaganda department was going to use that as justification for the moonshots that destroyed Overlook. You know what that would mean for us! Budget cuts, loss of support...We can't afford that! We're already stretched so thin."

"That's not a fair judgement, Ben. She almost died trying to stop that battle, because no one else around here had half the guts to do it," Henry criticized the historian, who lowered his eyes.

"I don't know why we have to explain it," Claudia spoke up, slapping her hand on the table out of frustration. Her no-bullshit attitude caused her to sound harsher than she might've intended. Softening her tone, she pleaded, "Just do the right thing and resign, Sera. Please, don't make us do this."

"She acted rashly," Florance argued with Henry's point. "Putting herself at risk isn't automatically good for us. She should've used better judgement. Now we're all in hot water!" she stressed, before adding sympathetically, "I'm sorry, Sera."

Five of the board members were nodding their heads in agreement. All except for the ex-Engineer who had pledged his loyalty to Sera six months ago.

"Joseph," she implored, knowing the man had something of substance to contribute. He had been quietly listening to the argument, nervously wringing his hands.

Dark eyes meeting hers, the man attempted to bring some positivity into the conversation. "Sera, you're one of the bravest people I know. What you've done for the sake of Pandorans has been inspirational. Without you, none of this would've been possible. Hell, I would've been executed if you hadn't stepped in. Please, don't take what's being said here as disrespect, or lack of appreciation. We're just...concerned."

That wasn't exactly the defense Sera had been hoping for. Crestfallen, she asked for clarification, "What does that mean?"

"He's saying you need to reevaluate yourself," Janine clarified for him, the last to speak. "It's a tough position to be in. We get that, honey. Which is why it's better for everyone, yourself included, if you step down. At least temporarily."

In that moment, Sera understood exactly how Julius Caesar must've felt. These were her colleagues, her friends, and they were going to revoke her leadership. Their words cut deeper than any dagger could; she felt completely gutted. Turning to Henry, Sera hoped that history wouldn't tragically repeat itself in that respect.

"You're all making a mistake," he declared, loyal until the end. His intelligent amber eyes swept over each of their faces, silently requesting that they reconsider their stances.

"So we're all in agreement," Luciana spoke, her eyes already gleaming with triumph. "All those in favor of Seraphina's removal from her position as Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations, say 'aye'."

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye."

Joseph was the last to pass his official judgement. He lowered his eyes to the hands he had folded on the table. Fidgeting with the ring on his finger, he briefly looked up to meet Sera's eyes. Blinking away the moisture threatening to spill, she remained dignified; the last thing she wanted was for his vote to be swayed by pity. He inhaled, preparing to deliver the vote that would decide her fate.

The bullet that pierced his chest silenced him before he could announce his decision.

Several board members screamed, rising from their seats in a panic. Joseph choked out a cry of pain, clutching the bullet wound as he crumpled to the floor. In shock, Sera was unable to do anything but stare. Henry wrapped his arm around her shoulders, shielding her from the shooter. Their identity shouldn't have come as a surprise.

"Hate to interrupt, ladies and gents. But I couldn't help but overhear that big decisions were being made, without me."

While the fearsome dictator brandished his pistol in a casually threatening manner, Sera rushed over to assist the bleeding Joseph. Dropping to her knees beside him, she inspected the damage. The bullet had pierced just below his clavicle on the left side, narrowly missing his lung. He was still bleeding heavily, which could prove fatal without immediate medical attention.

Applying pressure to his wound, Sera glowered at Jack, but he wasn't looking at her then. He was preoccupied with demonstrating the power he had over everyone in the room.

"Well that was unnecessary," Luciana remarked boldly, trying to draw attention to herself. She hadn't moved a muscle during the initial panic; perhaps because cold-blooded reptiles couldn't feel fear. She also had no sympathy whatsoever as she regarded Joseph. "I don't think he was in agreement. Pity; now we'll never know."

Clenching her jaw, it took every ounce of self-control not to scream unfriendly things at Luciana. She referred to Joseph like he was already dead. Henry had remained where Sera left him, watching everything transpire with wary eyes. One could be fooled into thinking he was indifferent, but he masked his true emotions well.

Meanwhile, Jack advanced on those gathered around the table. He sauntered forward with deliberately slow steps, aiming his pistol at each board member if only to frighten them. Sweeping his mismatched eyes over each and every face, he said, "In case anybody--I dunno--forgot? I'm the one who calls the shots around here. Pun intended."

The five uninjured but petrified board members quickly bowed their heads in submission, with mutters of, "Yes, sir".

"Now that we're all on the same page, get your sorry asses back to work," Jack commanded, with a dashing smile that promised painful deaths for those who disobeyed.

"Jack," Sera spoke in a stern tone, while trying not to berate him in front of everyone. Doing her best to keep the man's blood loss to a minimum, she stressed, "Joseph needs a medic."

Jack peered over the table, eyeing the man he had shot less than a minute ago.

"Sure does, cupcake," he confirmed. His devil-may-care attitude about it infuriated Sera. When her glare intensified, he blinked a few times before a halfway decent thought occurred to him. Snagging hold of Bentley—who had attempted to leave without attracting attention—he suggested, "Be a sweetheart and take him to the infirmary, would ya, kiddo?"

Bentley had stiffened when the hand caught the nape of his neck; afraid he would be the next recipient of a bullet. He nodded meekly at the request and flinched when Jack slapped him on the back, before ushering quickly over to Joseph. Sera helped the wounded man sit up, while Bentley slung Joseph's arm over his shoulders. It hurt that Bentley wouldn't make eye contact with her.

On the way out, Joseph dragged his feet as he looked at Sera over his shoulder, reluctant to leave after what happened to him.

Mouthing the words _I'll be okay_, she reassured him enough that he ultimately stopped resisting Bentley. Everyone else had gone, leaving Sera and Henry alone with the wicked witch and the devil himself.

"Just who in the fuck do you think you are, lady?" Jack questioned Luciana, waving his pistol dangerously. "Give me one reason not to kill you right now. I'll wait. Because I really, _really_ don't like it when people go behind my back."

"Oh, don't be mean, Jack. I'm just honoring my late husband's memory," she answered with false sincerity, fluttering her eyelashes to feign innocence. Then she expressed her true sentiments, "Thanks for offing him, by the way; the man was such a bore."

"My pleasure," Jack said oh-so-graciously. "But, sorry, I must've missed the part where you gave me a reason not to take _this _gun," twirling his signature pistol, he held it by the barrel like a blunt weapon, "and _bash your face in_ with it!"

Assuming a lusty posture, the woman propped a shapely leg on the table, while her hand rested idly near her privates. "Because I'm more fun when I'm drunk," she replied in a sexually-suggestive manner, adding slyly, "Unless you forgot."

Appalled by her lewd behavior, Sera could feel her cheeks burning. Evidently, she and Jack had slept together; something Luciana clearly wanted Sera to know, as she directed a not-so-subtle sneer her way. Mortified, the girl averted her eyes, hating how transparent the act was. The older woman grinned maliciously, knowing that she succeeded in her effort to make Sera uncomfortable.

"Actually I'd rather forget," Jack quipped in a deliberate attempt to spurn Luciana.

Her alluring pout morphed into a scowl. "I like you better drunk, too. You're so cruel sober."

"Stop. Talking," he groaned in exasperation, lacking the patience to tolerate her voice. "Get lost, Luci. Before I get over this whole pansy-ass 'being merciful' thing."

"Fine. I've had my fun, anyway," Luciana huffed, rising to her feet. Snagging her Bullymong-fur coat, she draped it over her shoulders before directing a piercing, cold stare at Sera. Drawing her lips back over her bleached white teeth, she said, "Let's get together again, Seraphina. Us girls have _so much_ to chat about."

Without another word, she strutted out of the room with an aggressive sway to her hips. When she was out of sight, Jack finally holstered his pistol and seemed to relax somewhat, able to converse openly with Sera and Henry.

"I thought the old harpy would never leave," he remarked. Looking over at Henry, he joked, "Trust me, you don't want any of _that_."

Henry wasn't amused, his expression rigid as stone. Sera was too distracted by the blood smearing her hands; Joseph hadn't deserved that bullet, even if he was about to vote against her. If he bled to death before Bentley could get him to the infirmary, the loss of morale would be crippling...

"Damn. Tough crowd," Jack muttered, deflating a bit when nobody stroked his ego. "Why the long faces, huh? Come on. I just stopped a freakin' mutiny! How about a little gratitude, kiddos."

"Gratitude?" Henry repeated, speaking evenly while unleashing a judgmental glare upon Jack. "You just shot a man in cold blood. No one has to thank you for that."

"Oh, is that how you feel, pumpkin?" Jack challenged, stepping closer to invade his personal space. He was smirking, but that was far from a good thing. Arms folding over his puffed out chest, Jack theorized, "I think you're just butthurt you didn't have the balls to do it yourself."

"Don't presume to know a thing about me," Henry fired back; he refused to cower like the others had. "I don't need to kill people to feel like a man."

After witnessing a good friend get shot over what hemighthave said, Seraphina caught her breath at Henry's scathing words. Heart pounding, she watched as Jack reached a hand to grasp Henry's tie. He straightened the knot neatly before wrapping the tail around his fingers, gripping it tightly in his fist. The fabric could easily be used to strangle the life out of him.

"Showing off for your girlfriend, huh?" Jack presumed with a deliberate glance in Sera's direction. "That's cute," he commented, without bothering to lower his voice as he added in a menacingly upbeat tone, "How embarrassing would it be if she watched you get your ass kicked by me?"

The idea of two men fighting over her made Sera nauseous. "Just stop it! Both of you."

Both men stopped glaring hatefully at each other to look at Sera. Henry was definitely fearing for her life. Jack, though, wasn't shocked that she scolded either of them. The ruthless CEO already established Sera was basically the only person in the Six Galaxies who could speak to him that way. Jack merely eyed Sera with consideration before returning his attention to Henry. Uncurling his hand from the leaner man's tie, he smoothed it out over his chest before clapping both hands down hard onto his shoulders. It was probably meant to make him jump, but Henry endured it without so much as a flinch.

"Why don't you go pass on the good news, huh, kiddo? Your girl Sera has just been promoted! She now has absolute, indisputable authority over the department. It's not a democracy anymore. Following so far? None of those assholes can remove her from power. Only _I_ can do that. Now, about that gratitude..."

Henry returned his intense stare as bravely as he had before. "Yes, sir," he responded after a tense silence.

"Good. Off you go, kiddo," Jack said cheerfully, patting his cheek. Henry blinked in annoyance; he surely didn't appreciate the condescension, but knew better than to press his luck.

When he was released, Henry obediently made his way toward the door. He hesitated only to look at Seraphina, waiting for any sign that she needed him to stay. Unable to fake a smile, she nodded once so he would know it was okay. Nodding in response, Henry departed, leaving her to deal with the infuriating man named Handsome Jack.

The CEO of Hyperion pivoted to face her, but made no advance, studying her from across the meeting room table. Deciding to approach him, Sera walked around the obstacle to stand in front of him. There was an awkward silence as neither of them knew where to begin. Then his lips moved, preparing to form words. He was about to say something, so it was only fair what happened next.

Her palm struck his cheek with enough force that it caused a sharp pain in her wrist, but watching his head snap to the side was satisfying. Never before had Sera wanted to strike a person so badly. Once wasn't enough, but she had nowhere near enough energy to deal out the karma he deserved for all the pain and suffering he caused.

Jack had been unprepared for the slap, astonished that she lashed out physically. What he said previously rang true; no one else would be allowed to live if they struck him, but Sera was the exception. When he turned his face back, his expression was difficult to place. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't smiling either. He seemed transfixed by her, as if marveling at her pure, undiluted fury.

"How could you?" Sera questioned ferociously, body shaking. "After what youdid—how could you kiss me like that?"

His infamous smirk made an appearance.

"That's not what happened," he argued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "If I remember correctly, _you kissed me_, cupcake."

Another slap was well-deserved, but he caught her hand that time. Embarrassed that she had lost control over the anger, Sera averted her eyes.

"Go to hell, Jack," she hissed, wrenching sharply out of his grasp. Backing up a couple steps to put distance between them, it was difficult to even look at him; she was deeply disgusted by his actions. "Those people in Overlook...they put their faith in me. They cooperated with Hyperion. They trusted you, Jack, because _I _convinced them. And now they're dead!"

When her voice cracked at the end, Sera turned away, pressing fingers to her lips as they began to tremble.Not now...not in front of him.While she was trying not to have another emotional break down, Jack moved closer. His hands were on her shoulders, gently turning her around to face him. His thumb wiped away the tears streaming down her cheek.

Snatching hold of his hand, she pulled her face away from his touch. "Don't..." she whispered, more exhausted than angry at that point.

"Overlook was a tragedy, I know that, alright?" he admitted, trying to placate her. "But there's something I need you to understand. The place was crawling with rebel scum. I sent in some Loaders to deal with the problem, then Angel warned me that you were in the crossfire. When your ECHO comm went offline, I thought you were killed. I'm not very subtle, cupcake, so it should be pretty freakin' obvious that I...well, shit, I _care_ about you. It was a knee-jerk reaction, I admit that...but none of those filthy bandits deserved to leave Overlook alive. Not after what happened. Or, what Ithoughthappened."

Hearing how he rationalized the massacre had Sera's mind reeling to process it.

"So...you're telling me, you sacrificed a town full of innocent people, because you thought you were avenging my death?"

Jack blinked a couple times, rethinking things from her perspective. "Well...saying it _like that_ makes it sound bad."

"Because it is bad, Jack."

"Yeah well..." he responded quietly, as he briefly lowered his eyes. His unusual behavior made Sera wonder if he really felt remorse. Then his eyes narrowed, lifting to peer into hers as he asked, "Do you think Roland wouldn't have done the same thing?"

Talk about deflection. Baffled, she lamely asked, "What?"

"Let me tell you a little story, pumpkin. Once upon a time, Roland and that back-stabbing skank Lilith tried to blow up this space station," he began, making a wide gesture to encompass the entirety of Helios. "Lots of people were on it then. Bad guys, good guys—didn't matter. They wanted to killme, specifically. They were going to sacrifice every single person on board, just to screw me over. I bet Roland didn't tell you _that_, when he was giving you the grand tour of Sanctuary."

"I didn't know that," Sera replied quietly. Folding her arms, she felt defensive at the mention of the brief meeting she had with the Commander of the Crimson Raiders. As the master of manipulation, Jack had managed to switch things around so she was the one in the hot seat.

"What did you two talk about, by the way?" Jack prodded, acting casual while he eyed her with suspicion.

It was in her best interest not to revealeverything, unless she wanted a repeat of what happened when he thought she was a spy. Wording herself carefully, Sera disclosed, "He asked me to be his ally."

"Mhmm," he mused, listening intently as he crossed his arms. An amused smirk played at his lips as he theorized, "I bet he gave you a big speech aboutme being the bad guy, and how he wants to liberate all the poor, downtrodden savages under my boots. Am I on the money, cupcake?"

"Pretty much."

The whole resistance thing clearly entertained Jack; the confidence he had in himself was unshakable. "And you shot him down, right?"

"It's my job to keep the peace, Jack..." Sera reminded him, repeating the same thing she told Roland. "Giving my support to any militant forces would violate the oath I took. That goes both ways."

"Good enough for me," he grinned, seeming convinced that she hadn't joined the resistance against him. "I just had to ask. You can't be too careful around here. Like I said, people won't hesitate to betray you if it suits their agenda. Something you just learned the hard way, right?"

The gut-wrenching feeling returned, as Sera reflected on what just happened. Her anger with Jack served as a temporary distraction from the fact at least five board members were opposed to her being in charge. While she didn't approve of how Jack handled the situation, he provided her with much needed security. Luciana would have to try harder if she wanted to dethrone Sera. As much as Sera hated to give the man credit, being ungrateful wasn't in her nature.

"Thank you, Jack."

Glowing as her appreciation validated his heroic self-image, he replied smoothly, "Anytime, babe."

The tension in the room had dissipated. With no conflict to focus on, they both lapsed into an awkward silence, uncertain what to say next. Nothing had really changed since their last encounter in his office. Sera had plenty of reservations about dating Jack, and it was obvious he was still pining after her. Dangerous memories began to creep back; his hands roaming over her body, stolen kisses, lustful words...

"I, uhm...I have work to do," the girl said abruptly, loathing the awkwardness and longing to escape it.

"Why don't you take the day off?" he suggested, perhaps implying something, but she didn't want to imagine what.

"Yeah, why don't I just prove how incompetent I am," Sera remarked, with an eye-roll to emphasize how ludicrous the suggestion was. "Unless you need me for something, I'll be in my office. _Working_."

Having no intent on blowing off her responsibilities, Seraphina turned and walked out of the board meeting room. Jack might have granted her absolute authority over the department, but she wouldn't conduct herself differently. There were reports to be filed, allies to contact, and statements to deliver. The Department of Pandoran Relations would need to officially condemn the actions of Hyperion, and offer condolences for the tragedy in Overlook.

Half-way down the hall, Sera spotted the tall, lanky blue-haired person leaning against the wall next to her office.

"Henry?" she called, pausing a few steps short of her best friend.

Henry pushed off the wall, while leaving some room between them. Something was bothering him; his brow was furrowed as he fixed her with a discerning stare. The way he was looking at her raised alarms, causing Sera to feel defensive. Before she could ask what was wrong, he questioned harshly, "You kissed him?"

Confronted with the dirty secret she never intended for him to know, Sera nearly doubled over. He might as well have punched her in the stomach. He overheard her conversation with Jack; how else would he have found out?

"Henry..." was all she could say, unable to explain. When she reached out to touch his arm, he recoiled in the same way he had in Jack's office; it didn't hurt any less the second time.

"Maybe the others were onto something," he said coldly, narrowing his eyes. Eyeing Sera with what could only be described as disgust, he surmised, "There's something wrong with you."

Mouth open, she was deeply hurt by that. Blinking furiously to clear the wetness that gathered on her lashes, Sera asked, "How can you say that?"

"The person I know would _never_ kiss Handsome Jack," he stated in a frigid tone. Arms rigid by his sides, he shook his head and looked away. Without even meeting her eyes, he said, "Your secret is safe with me, Sera, but don't expect me to be okay with it."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode off.

"Ouch, babe. Don't feel bad; it's his own fault for eavesdropping. Seriously, that's kind of creepy. Maybe you're better off."

Angrily shrugging off the hand that rested on her shoulder, Sera fixed Jack with a stern glare.

"He's my friend; he was just watching out for me. And you almost killed him, Jack," she reminded the murderous bastard, still angry over that particular incident. That should have been enough to solidify permanent feelings of hatred toward Jack; the guilt gnawed relentlessly at her insides. Miserably, she whispered, "He'll never forgive me."

"Then it's his loss."

"I have work to do," Sera declared, excusing herself from the conversation entirely as she headed for the sanctity of her office. Heaving a sigh when Jack followed, she paused in the doorway to look at him. "What do you want, Jack?"

Leaning his shoulder against the wall next to her, the man folded his arms and assumed a casual posture.

"Well, the annual Hyperion company celebration is just around the corner. Everyone is required to show up," he said, lazily pointing his finger in her direction, "which includes _you_, cupcake."

Knowing exactly where he was going with his proposition, Sera leveled a hard stare at him. "Seriously?"

"Look, I know you're pissed at me and all, but it would be rude not to ask you to be my date. That promotion just brought you up in the ranks, cupcake. We should be seen together at this thing. It's not a big deal; we're partners, now. Besides, Luciana is up to something. Until I figure out what that scheming bitch wants, the safest place for you is next to me."

Damn it; he was right and both of them knew it. Nervously chewing the inside of ger cheek, Sera left him on edge for a moment before giving her answer. "Fine," she agreed, laying down boundaries when you added, "As _partners_."

"Fine," he repeated, mimicking her tone and serious expression, before cracking a wise-ass smirk that confirmed her suspicions. He wasn't discouraged by her stonewalling; he had every intention to continue his pursuit.

"Don't forget to wear a pretty dress," he reminded cheekily, tucking his hands into his pants pockets. The man actually winked at her, before he sauntered off with unhindered confidence, whistling like the untouchable executive he was.

Internally debating over whether she should be impressed or put off by his unerring persistence, Sera eagerly sealed the door to her office. Force of habit caused her to side-step the place Reginald died over a week ago, regretting how she had rejoiced in his passing. Speaking of blood, hwr hands were covered in Joseph's. There was a small bathroom in the back of her office. Walking over to the sink, Sera caught herself almost hoping that a certain ex-assassin would uncloak himself and recite an amusing haiku.

So much had transpired in a short time-frame, it was dizzying.

While scrubbing off the blood, Sera hoped Joseph was recovering in the infirmary. Once she finished cleaning up, the motivation to get things done had drained away. There were many important things to attend to. Against better judgement, she avoided the responsibility waiting at her desk and decided to collapse onto the faithful sofa cushions.

"Seraphina."

Eyes flying open, the girl sat upright on the sofa. That soft voice had spoken to her multiple times before, but she finally had a name to identify it.

"Angel?" she called in a hushed voice, placing a hand to her forehead as the strange connection caused her temple to throb. A static charge prickled her skin, as the subliminal images of a pretty teenage girl once again invaded her conscious mind. However she was able to hack into her ECHO-comm, there was something supernatural about it.

"Good, you can hear me,"she responded."I'm sorry for what happened in Overlook. Please don't be angry with me..."

Recalling everything she had said prior to the town's destruction, Sera wondered just how much influence the A.I. had over things. Frigg had testified that the rebels weren't causing trouble; the Hyperion soldiers had showed up out of nowhere, as if they had known what they would find. Suddenly, it made perfect sense.

"It was you...you tipped Jack off about the Crimson Raiders."

"Yes," she admitted in her light, innocent-seeming voice."He uses me to monitor things on Pandora. I needed to create a distraction, so you could get to Sanctuary. Please understand that I didn't want anyone to get hurt, but it was necessary. Roland had to give you the weapon."

"Why are you doing all this?" Sera questioned, puzzled over her unspecified motives. Was she just another A.I. gone rogue, intent on destroying those who ordered her around? Or was there something deeper to the story?

"Just promise me that you'll stop Jack."

"I can't," Sera replied in an aggravated voice, sick of being asked to commit murder. People needed to quit involving her in their schemes. "Find someone else to do the dirty work. I can't be part of this."

There was a pause as the artificial intelligence considered her refusal."Do what you think is best for Pandora, Sera. I trust your judgement."

Angel disconnected then, leaving her alone to lapse into an existential crisis. With her conscience haunted, Sera recalled a conversation she had over a week ago before everything went to hell in a hand-basket.

"I'm not going to let him destroy us, Henry."

"

Are we talking about the same person? Destroying things is what Handsome Jack does. And he's the best at it."

Plenty of people were disappointed in Seraphina, but only one of them had been with her since the very beginning. Henry was the person she valued above all others. It tortured her to know that he would never be able to look at her the same way again. Perhaps everyone was right. Destroying things so he could build them back up, bigger and better than ever before; that was Jack's thing. Denial wouldn't change the reality. That first kiss had been the catalyst of her corruption...

Stewing in that revelation, she entertained a thought. Angel claimed to trust her judgement where the safety of Pandora was concerned; preventing unnecessary casualties was her responsibility. Things had drastically changed when Handsome Jack got involved with her department. Despite his iron-fisted methods when it came to governing the planet, and leading the company, he seemed generally enamored with her. If Sera had that kind of influence over him, perhaps there could be some real progress...

Handsome Jack had met his equal.


	10. Chapter Nine:

Copious amounts of champagne failed to repel Seraphina's fear of being approached by the predators circling the room. The annual Hyperion company celebration had reared its ugly head, once again forcing her to mingle with the most deplorable people in the Six Galaxies.

Two years of experience with attending such events taught her it was best to blend in. Her gown had been purchased several months in advance; a simple black number, which flattered her petite figure. The asymmetrical, gold-trimmed collar added interest, but she never wore necklaces. Her attire was sophisticated, refined, and altogether safe. The vibrant gold and gleaming diamonds of her beloved charm bracelet complimented the gown nicely.

Sera's dark brown hair was pulled back into a smooth ponytail, with her own personal touch; a classic up-do that required minimal effort. Subtle makeup softened her look, in stark contrast to the women who looked almost alien with their fierce, painted-on faces.

Handsome Jack had yet to make his grand entrance. Sera was alone; treading water in a tank overcrowded with ravenous, well-dressed sharks.

"What a shame," someone spoke up from behind, emerging from the murky depths to take the first bite.

Downing the rest of her champagne while resisting the urge to flee, she turned to the stranger who definitely had ulterior motives.

"What is?" the girl dared to ask, when he paused for dramatic effect.

"To see a stunning woman such as yourself all in your lonesome," he finished. How predictable.

"Not the first time I've been stood up," Sera responded with a slight slur to her words. The champagne had done its job.

"Forgive me, I'm quite inebriated," the man continued in a courteous manner. "That sounded far better in my head. Allow me to try again. How lovely to make your acquaintance, Seraphina. The great Hyperion Ambassador, in the flesh! Be still, my heart."

Squinting at the man, she studied him more closely once he had piqued her interest.

Roughly twenty years old or so, he wore a simple black suit. It was more understated than the overdressed majority whose evening-wear cost more than her entire paycheck. His eye-catching tie was noteworthy; a black-and-yellow checkered design, with a green stripe and odd patch of diagonal black-and-white stripes on the end. The logo clearly read Torgue. This man was either employed by the rival company, or being paid to advertise them.

Competitors often came to Hyperion celebrations if only for curiosity's sake. Though it was common for uninvited guests to become the night's entertainment; what better way to demonstrate whose guns were superior than a shooting match? The losers recieved the grand prize of a bullet to the face.

"Sorry, but…am I supposed to know you?"

"No, I don't think anyone here knows who I am," he chuckled, "Just a nameless face in the crowd. Which makes this occasion far more enjoyable. No need to concern myself over whom sees me staggering about. Please, forgive my rambling," he said giddily, extending his slim hand for her to shake. "My name is Jerome, but please, call me Jerry. I prefer casual terms. There are far too many uptight suits around here."

The irony of his formal speech patterns, compared to his preference for casual conversation, wasn't lost on Sera. Smirking, she offered her own hand, which he shook enthusiastically.

"Nice to meet you, Jerry," she greeted in a genuine tone, grateful that he wasn't some creep throwing thinly-veiled threats at her. Not many weapons-manufacturers appreciated her work. Any kind of peace interfered with the profits they made off the perpetual warfare happening on Pandora.

"Ambassador, would you mind if I asked you something?"

Shrugging loosely, the girl said, "Ask away."

Without warning, Jerry snagged hold of her arm. He leaned close as if to kiss her cheek, harshly whispering the inquiry, "Where is the weapon?"

The tone of the conversation had dramatically shifted. Jerry had gone from a blabbering drunk to an interrogator. The lilt in his voice disappeared altogether; it had all been an act, so Sera would let her guard down. He wasn't a harmless party guest, but an agent whose mission might include killing her.

"Who are you?" she whispered back, remaining calm. It took more than that to rattle her.

"Answer the question and no harm needs to be done," he informed just as coolly. "Where is the weapon, Sera? I know you acquired it when you were in Sanctuary. It's aboard this station, somewhere. It's useless in your possession. Unless seducing Handsome Jack is part of the plan?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sera lied.

"Stop playing dumb. It's so undignified for a girl as smart as you," he said with a smile, laughing as if Sera told him a joke. A few people glanced curiously in their direction before losing interest, seeing nothing amiss. Jerry, if that was even his real name, stopped smiling. His cold glare could freeze over hell itself.

"I don't have any weapons," Sera asserted, wincing slightly when his grip tightened. Annoyed by his implication of scandal, she added cheekily, "I prefer pens."

Narrowing his eyes, Jerry knew exactly what she was referring to.

Things could have escalated from there, until two figures appeared. A manicured hand with dagger-like fingernails--which were painted Hyperion yellow--rested on Sera's shoulder. Meanwhile, a certain blue-haired man grabbed the Torgue agent roughly by the arm.

"Careful now. I believe this one is spoken for," Luciana warned as her long arm draped around Sera protectively. She clutched the girl into the frame of her much taller, curvaceous body. Her piercing stare could have turned a faint-hearted man to stone, but Jerry seemed to endure it just fine.

All the same, he released the bruising grip he had on Sera's wrist, visibly angry that people were interfering with his mission.

"Better run off with your tail between your legs," Luciana continued in her deceptively sweet tone, resting one hand on her cocked hip, "Unless you want to be the first casualty of the evening?"

Jaw screwed tightly, Jerry refused to back down so easily without getting what he wanted. Henry spun him around to snatch hold of his collar as he growled, "Piss off, and don't let me catch you anywhere near Sera again, or I might do Jack a favor and strangle you myself."

Staggering as he was shoved by an uncharacteristically aggressive Henry, the Torgue agent caught his balance and lingered a moment. Sharply straightening his collar, he directed a frigid stare Sera's way before stalking off into the crowd. It was just a brief reprieve; she knew he would show up again, sooner or later.

"Oh, Sera, I envy your talent for making friends everywhere you go," Luciana taunted, keeping her arm coiled around the girl like a serpent, as she peered down at her with a false smile. It was more than a little uncomfortable being held against her body.

Luciana resembled a powerful goddess in her gown. The fabric folded artfully around her curves, draping her hips in a way that left one leg exposed when she moved. An elegant, bejewelled neck plate was quite the statement piece, luminescent gold. Her defined cheekbones were dusted gold, while her silver hair was plated back from her forehead before freely cascading down her exposed back. The charcoal black shadow around her eyes intensified her petrifying gaze.

Henry, on the other hand, looked far more approachable. Vibrant suits were his thing. This time around, it was blue like a deep sea, with gold accents and a shimmering gold tie. He briefly made eye contact with Sera, before turning to walk off.

"Henry," Sera called, more than a little hurt. He had been avoiding her for three days, ever since he found out she kissed Jack. He had employed Joseph as his personal courier pigeon, relaying information to her indirectly. It was inefficient, since they were both co-founders and were essentially equals, at least on a personal level.

Detaching herself from Luciana, she managed to catch up before he could disappear into the crowd. Latching onto his sleeve, she pleaded, "Just wait."

Halting, he was tense but at least seemed to be listening.

"I know you hate my guts right now. And I don't blame you. I'm messed up…" Sera blurted out, opening up as the alcohol lowered her inhibitions, "There's something you should know--"

"Seraphina," he interrupted in a clipped tone, enunciating her full name. He never called her by full name.

"Henry, please, just listen, okay? There's a _thing_…"

"Sera," he repeated, turning on his heel to fix her with a hard stare. "You're drunk."

That was debatable. She could walk just fine. The blood alcohol level in her body didn't negate the fact he should know there was a conspiracy going on. "Henry…"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. "Luciana," he called, causing Sera to blink in astonishment.

Slithering up beside them, the sultry woman snaked her arm around Sera's shoulders again. "Don't worry your handsome little head," she told him, before smiling at Sera. "I'll keep the rest of those vultures off her."

"Thanks, Luciana. If you would excuse me…"

_Did he just leave me with a babysitter? _Offended, Seraphina was unable to keep from pouting. Since when was Henry on friendly terms with Luciana? Of course, she understood the need for civility. Being an adult in a professional business setting, one had to at least pretend to like others to survive. Easier said than done.

"Don't even lie," she told the older woman, squirming in her clutches. "You just chased off that Torgue agent because you want to kill me yourself."

Smiling dangerously, Luciana ran her tongue over her prefect teeth while she considered that. "Oh, doll-face. I never get my hands dirty. See that?" she prompted, holding up her pristine claws. "These nails are much too expensive! So I wouldn't risk breaking one, just to tear your throat out."

"Ah."

Being near her made Sera want to crawl under the nearest table and hide, like a mouse trying to evade the venomous jaws of a viper.

"Really, Sera, I would much like for us to be friends," she proposed with a radiant smile. "These men just pit us against one another, you know. I think we have a lot in common."

Now that was a concept that never occurred to her. Eyebrow raised, Sera asked skeptically, "We do?"

"You're a survivor. As am I. Do you think I married Reginald because I loved him?" she questioned with a harsh laugh. Rolling her eyes at the preposterous concept of love, the woman continued, "Sometimes we make compromises. Sacrifices. We _survive_."

Mulling that over, Sera wasn't inclined to feel akin to a vindictive woman like Luciana. Still, she was following her point. Cleverly, the girl ventured to ask, "So it was just a happy accident that Jack killed him?"

Her smile, which seemed somewhat genuine, became a sour pout. "It was bad timing, actually."

Tired of dancing around the subject, Sera asked, "Why are you really here, Luciana?"

"A better question would be, why the hell are you hanging all over my date?"

Whatever progress Sera had been making with Luciana was annihilated. A large hand rested on the middle of her back, as the fearsome Dictator of Pandora inserted himself into the conversation.

"Jack," Luciana greeted her old bedfellow, less than pleased by his sudden arrival. "I was just telling Sera not to take it personally if your _pistol_ gets jammed. Old junk is unreliable like that."

"Oh, that's cute," he responded, his tone chipper while he was certainly brainstorming ways to end her life in a spectacular fashion. "Why don't you go find another nobody to put a ring on it? I'm sure one of these sorry sons of bitches are drunk enough to think you're hot stuff."

Luciana cocked her hip while scowling at him, but had no snarky retort. Then she glanced in Sera's direction; the girl was blushing furiously and trying not to laugh at the "pistol" euphemism.

"Nice chatting with you, Sera. Remember what I said," she advised, before strutting off and out of sight.

Jack's mismatched eyes were boring into Sera, expecting a full disclosure of what just happened. Her brain, of course, seemed to short-circuit whenever the man was near.

"Uhm...hey," was all she could muster.

"Hey, pumpkin," he replied sweetly, seeming to be in a good mood despite how Luciana tested him. "Working the floor without me, huh?"

Oh, he had no idea. "Yeah, about that—"

"Hold that thought," he interrupted, actually placing a finger to her lips. Flashing a million dollar smile, he said exhuberantly, "It's speech time, baby! How do I look?"

Wearing a suit worth enough to feed the entire population of Pandora, he was the best dressed dictator in history. It was black as dark matter, accented with hints of gold thread and complimented by a Hyperion yellow tie. His hair, which normally had a tousled look from stressful work, was combed neatly back from his forehead. Assuming his famous pose—hands on hips, chest pronounced, and strong chin lifted—he looked…

"Like Handsome Jack," Sera offered. Enough said.

His confident smile widened at what he considered the highest praise. "Thanks, cupcake. Wait here; I've gotta make the whole 'good job, assholes' speech, you know how it goes. Then I'm all yours. Don't miss me too much."

Planting a suave kiss on her cheek, Jack winked and sauntered off toward the stage. Left to fend for herself once again, Sera felt stupified. Whatever his reasons for being late, he could've at least forewarned her. Then again, he was probably held up at the office overseeing some assault on Pandora. While he supported Sera's efforts to negotiate, Jack still preferred to lay down the law hard and fast. As if things weren't chaotic enough, the Vault Hunters were causing a lot of trouble for Hyperion. Jack had no qualms unleashing the big guns to take them out.

Flaunting himself on stage, Jack gave a half-hearted congrats to his employees, followed by a thanks-a-bunch spiel to his loyal supporters. People cheered and applauded him; some out of adoration, others out of fear, and most a combination of both. Fortunately, no one climbed on stage to vomit on his boots, so things were pretty tame compared to previous celebrations.

As entertaining as it was to watch him parade about, Seraphina was distracted.

That Torgue agent was still prowling Helios. The Crimson Raiders still expected her to kill Jack. And somehow, for reasons unknown, Angel was orchestrating it all.

Someone needed to know what was going on. If Henry wouldn't listen, she would consult with someone else. There were only a handful of people aboard Helios that she trusted...

Loitering near the table of refreshments were the other board members. Ever since their failed attempt to unseat her as the Head of the Department of Pandoran Relations, they treated her differently. They resented the fact she was untouchable. Joseph was the only one who still respected her, and he convinced Bentley to ease up. After all, she supported their engagement one-hundred-percent, and if anyone dared complain, she wouldn't tolerate it.

Joseph and Bentley were color-coordinated. The former rocked a traditional black suit, with a colorful tie. The latter's suit had colorful hues, mimicking the patterns of rakk-hide. He even swapped the usual black rims of his glasses for orange.

Catching her eye, Joseph waved her over. Bentley, who had just stuffed a finger-sandwich into his mouth, nearly choked when he spotted Sera. He certainly acted different since the whole power display at the meeting; not hateful, but more bashful, like she intimidated him. That bothered her more than Janine, who glared daggers over her wine glass.

While she approached Joseph and Bentley, Sera saw Janine leaning closer to Florance and Claudia. Could they make their smack-talking more obvious?

"Hey, there she is! Sera," Joseph greeted warmly, slinging an arm over her shoulders once she moved within reach. He was glowing; he could finally revile in the open about his engagement. "You look beautiful. Doesn't she, Ben?"

Gulping down his sandwich, Bentley nodded enthusiastically. "Sure does. I'd love to borrow that dress, sometime."

Okay, that made her laugh. "Oh?"

"Did I say that out loud?" Bentley cringed, blushing a bit.

"So, _anyway_," Joseph said with a joking eye-roll, amused by the idea of his fiancé in a dress. "What's the deal with you and Jack?"

Sera blanched, caught completely off guard by that question. By then it was hard to deny _something _was going on between them, but she had no short answer. "Uhm…"

"I _told_ him not to ask you that," Bentley groaned, face-palming.

"What? I'm not judging," Joseph amended, turning his face back to Sera as he eyed her burning cheeks. "We just wanted you to know we've got your back, is all. Forget what was said at that meeting. We were all just shaken up about Overlook. Nothing's changed. We still support you, and trust your judgement."

Bentley nodded in agreement, making Sera feel a little better. It was astounding how loyal the ex-Engineer was; his words meant a lot, considering Jack shot him for the sake of proving a point.

"Speak for yourself."

Janine appeared, a brilliant vision in her yellow, shimmering gown. To her left was Claudia, who sported a steel-grey pantsuit and a blouse with an elegant train. Slightly behind them, Florance sipped her drink and smoothed the collar of her simple black dress. She seemed uneasy, which Sera could relate to as Janine invaded her personal space.

"What an honor, Ambassador. Or do you go by Your Highness these days?"

Oh, she wasn't _nearly_ drunk enough for this.

"I don't know what you mean," Sera said, bristling as she sensed the unbridled hostility emanating from the woman.

Janine laughed coldly; she stood so close, she could bite Sera's nose off. "Oh, I think you do," she persisted, folding her arms while her eyes swept head-to-toe over Sera in a very judgmental manner.

"Lay off, Jan," Joseph told her, gripping Sera's arm with a reassuring squeeze. He was the oldest among the board; the one with the lowest tolerance for melodrama.

"Shut your trap, Joseph," she fired back, before stepping even closer, forcing Sera to lean back to avoid making contact. "We're talking. One woman to another. Right, Sera?"

"Look, Janine," the shorter girl said, hands lifted up to keep her back while doing her best to remain calm. "I'm the Supreme Head, thanks to Jack. You can be bitter all you want, but that's how it is."

"Right, Jack," she acknowledged, with a gleam in her eye that foretold trouble. "You know, I thought you were above _that_. Guess I was wrong."

The others were mute, but Sera could tell those words caused the mood to shift. Blinking, Sera glanced around at them. Joseph frowned disapprovingly at Janine, while Bentley turned his face away in secondhand embarrassment. Claudia bit her lip, failing to mask her cackle. Florance tossed the rest of her drink back, avoiding eye contact. It was obvious what was just implied about Sera and Jack.

"W-what? That's not…I didn't…" she stammered, cheeks growing hotter by the second. Curling her fists while Janine smirked, she wasn't about to tolerate insubordination. "I'm your boss! In case you _forgot_."

"Yeah," Janine challenged further, standing almost nose-to-nose with her. "What makes you think I care? You whore yourself out to the biggest warmonger in the galaxy, and you want respect? Nah. We can help Pandora with our legs closed."

"I…I have to go to the bathroom," Seraphina said quickly.

Shrugging free of Joseph's supportive hand, she carefully edged around the aggressive Janine and skirted past an unhelpful Florance. When Sera threw a hard glare Claudia's way, she promptly fixed her face, but it was clear she sided with Janine.

Removing herself from that painfully awkward situation, Sera retreated to the bathroom. It was deserted, which meant she could cry in peace. Hot tears were already streaking her face black with mascara.

"Damn it," she hissed in the mirror, attempting to wipe the mess off but only smearing it further.

Hunching over the sink with a miserable sigh, she felt sick. Paranoia convinced her the whole station believed she was sleeping her way to the top. Nevermind the fact she hadn't formally met Handsome Jack until recently...

How could the board members disrespect her that way, when _she _was the one doing all the field work? None of them, save Joseph, would have the guts to take Sera's place and risk their asses for the cause. Yet that Janine had the gall to drag her name through the mud! It felt like Hyperion Academy all over again; mean girls and vicious rumors. Death seemed like a blissful alternative to reliving that nightmare.

"_Seraphina!"_

Jolting in surprise, the girl almost slipped and cracked her skull on the sink.

"Angel?" she responded, pressing a hand to her thrumming forehead. The strange presence in her mind worsened the hangover slowly creeping in.

_"There's no time. You have to warn Jack!"_

"Warn…?" the dumbfounded Ambassador repeated. Why would Angel tell her to help Jack in any way, when she was behind a conspiracy to assassinate him?

"_I can't explain everything right now," _she said urgently,"_The 'weapon' is active! Sera, you can't let it detonate here. Jack isn't the only one who's in danger. Helios will go down with him!"_

Confused as she was, Sera knew better than to ignore anything Angel had to say. Rushing out of the bathroom and back into the crowd, she saw Handsome Jack still basking in the spotlight on stage. He was answering questions and taunting guests like a stand-up comedian. He sure loved attention; even the negative kind.

Adoring fans, all employed by Hyperion, formed a human wall between her and Jack. When they refused to give way, Sera had no choice but to use force. Pushing through them, she earned several elbows to the face and someone even yanked at her hair. _Psychos_.

Past the deranged fans, Sera was close enough that Jack would hear her call his name. Pausing to catch her breath, she prepared to do just that, until she spotted a familiar tie labeled Torgue.

"Handsome Jack!" Jerry shouted over the music, interrupting the giddy dictator's rambling, "Torgue sends their regards!"

In his hand was the object he had been seeking; the golden pen; a weapon of mass destruction. How had he gotten hold of it? Sera had locked it away under her bed, in the privacy of her apartment. Not the most secure place for a dangerous weapon, but no one else knew where it was. Somehow, he had gained access to Sera's apartment...

Wait... Feeling the spot on her hip where her employee identification badge should've been clipped on, she mentally kicked herself for not noticing sooner. The sneaky bastard swiped it from her sometime during their confrontation.

There was no time to warn anyone; Sera had to act, or people were going to die.

Taken by surprise, the Torgue agent went down easier than Sera expected as she tackled him to the floor. Awkwardly laying on top of him, she grabbed for the pen, but his arm was longer than hers, keeping the object out of reach. His eyes, wide with shock, narrowed when they settled on her face. Seeing the pure rage of his expression, she pushed herself up but not quite fast enough. On her knees, she was unable to avoid the sharp right hook.

Burning pain inflamed the side of her face, as his knuckles plowed into her cheek. Face down on the floor, legs still entangled with his, Sera whimpered a bit. Tasting blood, she grimaced and spit the foul tasting fluid out. That punch was harder than necessary.

"You consider yourself an Ambassador of peace?" the Torgue agent spat, grabbing hold of Sera by the throat. He laughed harshly, eyes wild with murderous intent. Dragging her up with him as he stood, he lifted her heels up off the floor, choking her mercilessly. Speaking through clenched teeth, he growled, "No, you're nothing but a _fascist-loving whore_!"

Onlookers shrieked at the sound of a gunshot, which Sera barely heard as lack of oxygen caused her to nearly black out. Hitting the floor again, she landed next to the Torgue agent who knelt, clutching his arm and gritting his teeth. Blood dripped heavily from the wound, pooling on the polished floor; he wouldn't last another minute, as the bullet had severed a major blood vessel.

Coughing, Sera managed to inhale some precious oxygen and blinked away tears to identify the shooter. A very pissed off Handsome Jack advanced on Jerry, twirling his pistol as the barrel gave off a tendril of smoke. Standing behind the dying man, he swiftly planted a boot to the back of his head, forcing him to the floor.

"You dumb little piss-ant," he criticized, chuckling a bit; it was never a good sign when Jack smiled so wide. "If you're gonna try to kill someone, don't freakin' _announce_ it! This is what happens when you do." After a fit of obnoxious laughter, he bent over his knees and taunted Jerry further, "How does it feel to embarrass yourself in front of like, the whole universe, huh, kiddo? Not so good, I bet."

"Jack," Sera rasped, weakly sitting up to get his attention. He was gloating over whom he perceived to be a piss-poor assassin, oblivious to the real danger.

It was already too late. Laughing deliriously as he bled out, the Torgue agent lifted his other hand to show the weapon had been activated. A red light blinked at the end of the pen, ticking off the precious seconds before detonation.

Finding the strength to stand, Sera launched herself at the baffled Jack; without a clue what the pen really was, he saw no reason to run. Colliding with his solid chest, she managed to shove him back with enough force that he toppled over and slid across the floor. Meanwhile, Sera hit the floor on her stomach a few feet shy of him.

Every heartbeat pounded in her ears, as she mentally counted down from ten and hoped that was how long the device was programmed to wait. Her instinct was to crawl as fast as possible away from the explosive device, but the Torgue agent caught her ankle in a death grip.

Sera had enough time to glance back, glimpsing his manic grin, before time itself seemed to end. Nothing else registered in her mind; it was just abysmal silence.


End file.
